


Defects and Destiny

by EzraTheBlue



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Canon Divergence, Disabled Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Prompto Spoilers, Friendship, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Nonbinary Character, Retelling, Self-Acceptance, Social Anxiety, Spoilers, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unreliable Narrator, no beta we die like men, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2019-11-07 07:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 109,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17956217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: It had never been a problem before. It had simply been this way for as long as Prompto could remember. However, before he knew it, Prompto's self, identity, and universe were about to turn based on a twist of fate, a connection with three nobles, and a series of unfortunate events. Prompto was the only member of Noctis' entourage who'd ever had any choices to make about how his life was. How will a shift in Prompto's fate affect the prophecy that guides the last king of Lucis?





	1. Defective

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom, and I'm still working on finding my voice with these characters, so constructive criticism is very much welcomed! I admit I'm mostly exploring some ideas, and I'm just mashing up some things that satisfy me, but I figured that if I enjoyed it, maybe someone else would as well.
> 
> I've taken some liberties with canon as I'm still digging into the lore, so I apologize in advance for any idiosyncrasies.
> 
> This fic does feature Prompto as a nonbinary character. The exact nature of his gender identity will be explained in the narrative, but if that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to step back now. 
> 
> Also, upon further consideration, I adjusted the rating from T to M and reserve the right to adjust the rating further.
> 
> Without further ado...
> 
> FIRST CHAPTER WARNING: The first chapter contains mention of bullying and violence, along with body image issues.

**1: Defective**

It had never been a problem before. It simply had been this way for as long as Prompto could remember.

He could remember being young, small, and being confused as to why he was wearing dresses and skirts, because the others who were “like him” got to wear pants when they wanted. He remembered wondering what made him different from the other boys. He remembered his parents having a very serious conversation with someone in a suit around when he was three, and first hearing the word “defective.”

“Defective.” It befuddled him that being a girl but preferring to be a boy made him defective. It wasn’t like he especially hated being female, he just ... _wasn’t_.

His parents put him into therapy, with a nice lady doctor who who determined that Prompto should be allowed to determine his own destiny, so to speak. His therapist asked him what he wanted to be, a boy or a girl, and he said "I don't know." That was a decision in and of itself: he was allowed to present as whatever gender he preferred, and most of the time, he chose male. Most of the time, he was happier as “he” than “she.” Being allowed to be the gender he felt like was at least something he could stand on when he saw his therapist more than his parents. It didn’t fix his social anxiety, how nervous he was around kids his age and how he hated the snickers about everything else about him, how heavy he was, how weird his light hair looked, that gross, sweaty wristband his parents told him to wear to cover up that weird mark on his wrist, how his real parents must have hated him and thrown him away. It didn’t mean he wasn’t completely alone when he was small, it just gave him something to hold on to. _I am what I want to be_.

He learned what the word “defective” meant in fifth grade. _Wrong._ As in, built wrong. Made wrong. Something that has a problem. He still remembered that man in the black suit saying he was defective. He had problems. He saw lots of problems with himself. It was around then he really started hating all of them.

The one thing he could ever really think of that he’d done right was when he’d rescued that cute white dog, only to get a perfumed letter from the Lady Lunafreya in return thanking him. Then, she’d asked him to make friends with the Prince Noctis at his school, and he couldn’t even manage that. When he tried to approach him, he'd just fallen flat on his face, nearly broke his camera, and when Noctis had picked him up, the first thing he'd said was a comment on how heavy he was. Prompto had wanted to die rather than live in his skin a second longer. He had no idea what was so wrong with him, why he couldn't be someone others wanted, as he was.

At least he was whatever he wanted to be when he stepped outside and faced a world that didn’t seem to like him. He learned to act cheerful to make up for it, even when there was nobody around to see him smile.

When he got a little older, a few months after he met Noctis (the first time, at least), he started giving himself testosterone shots. The testosterone made him feel a little more right, because he didn’t hate being female, but being seen as male felt a little better. It was even better when, with a little diet, a lot of exercise, and a little hormonal help, he shed his puppy fat, grew into the weight he had left, and he actually started feeling himself for exactly what he was. He got tall(er than he was when he was young), he got a little broader through the shoulders, and if he got anything in the chest, it was nothing a sports bra couldn’t make insignificant. He was on a pretty low dose or hormones and stayed there, because he still wasn’t sure just how far “male” he really cared to go, and his therapist told him he had room to decide.

He was exactly male enough. He was okay with being born with female parts. It had never been a problem before. It was just everything else. He did everything he could to correct the problems he could, but that one non-problem was something he didn’t really care about fixing.

The first time it came close to being a problem was after he met Noctis the second time and got another chance to complete his promise to Lady Lunafreya. Somehow, he got a chance this time, because when he introduced himself to Noctis again, Noctis soon opened up to him, and from there, he got swept from the common life he’d lived into the outskirts of the tempest that was noble life, and it made his problems, his nerves, his loneliness, his life that was otherwise empty. His friendship with Noctis was a core part of his life, and soon, that core got bigger.

First, Ignis. Ignis, Noctis’ chamberlain, the valet, the chauffeur, the personal chef, the advisor, the _everything_ , Noctis’ primary companion and his caregiver outside of the Citadel walls. Ignis, who couldn’t _possibly_ be only two years older than him. He was a gentleman at sixteen, always buttoned-up and proper, and while he first regarded Prompto with due distance and suspicion, every once in a while he'd show the warmth indicated in his name and position with a sly smile. He was the exact cool kind of confident that Prompto wished he could be, and he made Prompto’s stomach do flip-flops when he looked at him. His chest was full of butterflies every time Ignis granted him even a small smile.

Gladio was the kind of man Prompto didn’t want to be, but _Six,_ was he cool anyway. He was the chill one who both put Noctis to the test teaching him how to fight, then would flop down on the couch with them for a few hours of King’s Knight. Prompto couldn’t help but envy how cool he was in a fight, either training with the Glaives or on the screen, and after watching one of his training sessions with Noctis, made the mistake of saying as much out loud:

“You guys are so cool!” Prompto beamed as the other two dropped down onto the sofa, Gladio toweling his forehead and damp hair, and as Noctis sank like a stone next to him, still panting and bandaging his blistering fingers. Gladio chuckled, a little too proudly.

“Cool takes practice.” He flicked Prompto’s ear. “Maybe you ought’a work on it.”

“Hey,” Noctis warned quietly, then swiped the towel off of Gladio's arm to mop his own forehead. “He’s cool.”

“There are many ways of being ‘cool,’ Gladiolus,” Ignis added from the kitchen, and Prompto glanced around to watch him as he slid his knife through a chicken carcass to break it down into pieces as easily as he might cut butter.

“Whoa.” Prompto knew he was gaping, and turned to watch Ignis expertly filet the breasts from the ribcage. “You’re so fast! That's amazing!”

Ignis smirked, looking rather proud. “This is nothing. Merely part of my training, and my duties.” He sliced the breast meat into four equal flat portions, then set the butcher knife in the sink and took up a Santoku and a bag of carrots. “If I could actually convince His Highness to eat half of what I cooked, that would be impressive.”

Noctis moaned and threw his towel over his face, complaining into the terrycloth, but Prompto laughed. “I'll eat it! Every bite, and his veggies too!”

“Sure ya will, kid,” Gladio chuckled, giving Prompto an elbow to the ribs. “And my training Noct is part of my job, too. If I weren't awesome, we'd have a problem.”

“Whatever. Prom's cool too.” Noctis picked up his remote and turned the TV on. “Watch, he'll best you five times out of six here, just stay out of his way.”

Gladio grinned with all his teeth. “Oh yeah?” And then, the disc loaded and the games began.

Gladio spent the night thwomping Prompto in every round like it was his job. Noctis complained quietly that Gladio was trolling him, but Prompto laughed it off. “Who wants to be a spoil-sport? So what if I'm losing, we're still having fun!” It didn't make him feel less pathetic for not living up to Noct's boast.

Worse was when he asked Ignis how he'd made the dinner, partly to distract Ignis as Noctis migrated all of his peppers and broccoli to the corner of Prompto's plate, and partly because it smelled so amazing he had to know. Ignis had smiled, pretending to be flattered, and recited the full recipe from memory. Again, like it was his job to know everything about everything he did or had to do or even might have had to know. Prompto lost track around “450 milliliters of red wine” and got dizzy at “reduce until nappe” and finally had to laugh it off.

“Wow, that's crazy! I mean, that's too much for me, I'll just stick to my Wallace grill and automatic steamer, but you're amazing!”

Ignis’ eyes crinkled with mirth. “It's my duty to provide for Noctis’ nutritional needs by providing a balanced and varied diet, even if he continually shoves the best parts of his meal onto you.” Ignis promptly swiped Prompto’s plate up, swept the vegetables Noct had been fishing out back onto his plate. Noctis groaned as Ignis smiled sedately and placed Prompto's plate back in front of him. “Please enjoy.”

Duty. That echoed in Prompto's head for a while. It made him realize that the other two that surrounded Noctis were placed there because it was their jobs. Their duties. Prompto knew the Amicitia family had guarded the royal family for generations, and Gladiolus was the scion of the family, destined to be Noct's Shield. If he was tough and skilled in a fight, it was because he had to be, so he made himself strong. Ignis had been appointed as Noctis’ personal aide, lined up to be his advisor. He’d been pressing Noctis’ slacks since he was ten. He was destined to be the man behind the King. He was an expert on virtually everything Noct touched because he had to be. That was what was expected of them.

Nobody expected anything from him. His parents were satisfied with his grades, or they didn't sound angry about them on the phone. His therapist was proud he could give himself his T injections. His teachers liked him enough because he was cheerful and helpful. Nobody wanted more from him than that. He hadn't been born into or sworn to some greater fate. He was just lucky Noctis liked him a little differently from the rest of his entourage: they were friends, but maybe like brothers.

“Don't worry about them,” Noct told him in a whisper as Prompto hung in the doorway, leaving Ignis waiting with the car keys in hand. “You're cool for lots of other reasons, okay?” He patted Prompto on the shoulders just as Ignis called him. Noct's reassurance was nice, and kept him smiling through the quiet ride from Noctis’ building to his house.

“Thank you for spending time with him.” Ignis broke the silence as they turned the corner to Prompto's street. “He's been a different person since he met you. He seems lighter around you.”

“Lighter?” Prompto raised his eyebrow, and Ignis hummed.

“He has a lot on his shoulders, even though he's your age. Being with you helps him forget how heavy that load is. Even if you can't unburden him from his fate, you make it easier for him to carry. He's more grateful for your friendship than words can say.” Ignis smiled warmly at him from the driver's seat. “You seem to bring brightness wherever you go.”

Prompto found himself blushing furiously at that, and was suddenly grateful the car always dark. “Aw, you're being nice!” He grinned. “I'm not so special, though. I'm just his friend ‘cause … well, he needed a friend. He looked lonely.”

“He was. And never tell yourself you're not special.” Ignis pulled to a halt on his plain little residential street. “You're very special.”

Prompto's face was on fire. “Thanks. Um, we're here and all. G'night.” He opened the door, but Ignis called after him:

“Ah-ah-ah. Do wait.” Prompto looked back and saw Ignis slipping a hand into his jacket, then he held out a small card. “My recipe card. I realized I neglected to give you pen and paper when you requested tonight's recipe, and while it sounds complicated, I'm certain you can handle it. Nappe just means the sauce is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, and if you have any other questions, you can text me.”

Prompto could cry and was about to. “You're the best, Iggy!”

“Iggy?” Ignis cocked his head, and Prompto froze up.

“S-sorry, it's, um, a nickname. ‘Cause I like you, and we're friends, or-”

“I like it.” Ignis smiled, eyes alight. “You surprised me, but it's charming when you say it.”

“Oh. Um. Good.” Prompto stepped back, silently cursing the bright lights from the other houses highlighting his bright red cheeks. “Thanks again for the ride!” He bolted for the door of his dark house.

Knowing his standing next to the others made him feel small, but knowing they wanted him there anyway was a little reassuring, anyway. No, knowing it was Ignis reassuring him, seeing the warm side of him, that was about to become a problem.

He was still pretty shy, deep down, and he was okay just having a few really good friends, but not talking to a lot of people meant he didn't know who or how to ask “help, I have a crush on my best friend’s other friend but I'm _defective_ and I don't know if he'll want me or how to even tell him, what do I do?” He didn’t know if Ignis would want to love him, like, at all, but especially when he was what he was. He still wasn’t always so solid about being a “he” some days. There were quite a few parts of him that weren’t very “he” at all, hidden under either a binder or a sports bra and pants that were just a little loose. He didn’t care about them, but what if Ignis did?

What if any of them did? He didn’t want to find out, not until he knew it wouldn’t matter to them or that they wouldn’t take the first excuse to get rid of him.

Things were just getting more complicated, but Prompto wouldn’t trade it. Noctis was still an awesome friend, and Gladio might have been a jerk but he was more like a snarky big brother than a bully. They were good, and he liked having them around. He could deal with feeling like nothing next to Gladiolus. He could have a crush on Ignis and survive. After all, he’d loved his parents and never been loved back and survived. Even being shut out from Noctis’ life when he had to go to court or meetings, the constant reminders that Noctis was Prince and so far above his station that even when Noctis seemed to stand next to him, it was on a cloud descended from the skies and that Noctis would float away again. They all stood leagues above him, but it didn't matter. It only hurt when he thought about it.

He also was always on the receiving end of reminders, either when he was with them all, or alone at school.

“You.” A fist thumped on the locker next to his, rattling the metal. Prompto jumped back a foot, his slick uniform loafers skidding on the waxed tile floor as two others from his and Noct’s class cornered him. The taller of the two sneered at Prompto. “You getting a big head, blondie?”

“I dunno what’cha mean.” He patted his own head. “It’s the same size as always, y’know?” He slicked his hair back, forcing a little grin. “Maybe it’s the new product-”

“You know what I mean!” The other boy punched the locker again, pinning him against it, and Prompto froze. “Always, ‘let me get Noctis’ homework!’ or ‘the Prince said he’d be back Monday!’ Like you’re so important!”

Six, this game again. This wasn’t the first time someone had punched him for something stupid, but he knew he got dirty looks for being Noctis’ friend. Prompto swallowed and glanced left, looking for an opening to get out. The hallway was empty, but the guy’s friend was blocking his only way out, sulking with his arms crossed like he was trying to look intimidating. Prompto tried to pretend it was Noctis pouting about being told to do his homework, and had to choke back a tiny chuckle. The bigger guy slammed his fist on the locker again, and Prompto grimaced, but glowered at him. “Look, I’m his friend, and he told me to tell the teacher he’d be away and get his stuff-”

“And why the hell you gotta rub it in everyone’s faces?!” The guy actually struck him in the chest that time, and Prompto’s back hit the lockers. “You think you’re special ‘cause the Prince likes you?”

Prompto swallowed hard and avoided eye contact, trying not to do anything that would string this out any longer. “No.”

“Then what the hell are you playing at?!” The boy threw him to the ground. Prompto hit the ground face-first and tumbled, the seams on his jacket’s shoulders splitting as his arms splayed under him, but he pushed himself up on his palms just in time for the other to spit in his hair before hauling him to his feet by his lapel. “Weakass little boy like you clinging onto the Prince like a piece of lint.” He throttled Prompto. “Say it. Tell me you’re a goddamn weakass.”

Prompto winced. His whole face hurt and his nose felt like it was leaking now. “Yeah. I’m weak.”

The guy threw him against the lockers then grabbed the front of his jacket again and held him in place. “What’s he keep a fucking pussy boy like you around for? You his fuckin’ cockwarmer or some shit? You keepin’ his dick wet until he can marry that princess?” He threw him again, and Prompto’s head hit the lockers first this time. “You his fag? Say it!”

Prompto’s universe spun, vision blurry despite his contacts, and he could smell blood now. “I’m a fag.” Whatever it took, anything just to make it stop…

The bully just sneered. “Like you mean it, girly-boy! Tell me where you belong, you damn Niff nobody!”

Then, there was a shout: “Unhand him!”

“PUT HIM DOWN!” Ignis! Gladio! Prompto couldn’t even get his bearings before Gladio had seized both of the bullies by the trunks and hoisted them onto his shoulders, and Ignis was grabbing him under the arms to hold him up.

“Prompto, are you alright?” Ignis tried to catch his eyes, but Prompto couldn’t focus and he was tasting blood on his upper lip.

“M’fine. Been worse. Was worse, when I was fat.” He put on a smile, because he was cheerful, he was sunshine, that was how they liked him. “There was more ass to kick.”

“Prom - no, not now.” Ignis scowled, pinched the bridge of his nose, then held his hand up. “How many fingers do you see?”

Prompto forced himself to focus, despite the two bullies struggling against Gladio’s unflinching hold making for spectacular distraction. “Tw… three. Two?”

Ignis shook his head, and Prompto got the sinking feeling that maybe he'd forgotten how to count in front of the smartest person he knew. “How often does this happen?”

Prompto eyed the bullies, all six(? When did Gladio get that many arms?) of them, and winced. “Only when Noct’s gone. This’s the worst it’s been, though.”

Ignis scoffed, and looked to Gladio. “Inquire with the administration about the presence of security cameras in this hallway. If there are none, I believe you’ve seen enough.”

“Yeah, more than.” Gladio grunted, glowering at the bigger guy. “Man, you two probably ought’ve just asked to get expelled if you wanted it that bad. That would’a been way easier than dealing with me.” He hauled them off as easily as if he were carrying two sacks of potatoes, as Ignis sighed and took his kerchief from his front pocket and dabbed at Prompto’s nose.

“Come along. You can’t go home in this state. I want to see any injuries you may have under your clothes, as well.” He put an arm around Prompto’s shoulder with pretended affection. “Do you want to call your parents and ask them to bring you a change of clothes?”

Prompto shook his head. “They’re in Altissia on business. They can’t really help much from there.” Ignis tightened his grip on Prompto’s shoulder as he guided him into an empty classroom.

“I’ll have Gladiolus bring in your gym clothes. They’re in your locker, yes? Let’s get you out of the uniform before you bleed all over it.”

Prompto swallowed as Ignis closed the door. Like this wasn’t humiliating enough, letting his friends see how weak he was. Now, he was about to be exposed as being something he wasn’t to Ignis, of all people. It was bad enough to be weak, but he could at least explain why he was weak. He’d never had to be strong. He hadn’t figured out how to be who he was.

“Are you shy about changing in front of others?” Ignis was looking at him expectantly, though his brow knit up, and Prompto realized he’d been standing still, swaying on his feet, in the back of the classroom. Ignis motioned to himself with a flap of a gloved hand. “I can turn around, if you’d like.”

Prompto nodded, more grateful for that providence than he could articulate with a throbbing headache. “Please.”

Without a single question, Ignis pivoted on his heel and faced the blackboard, and Prompto took off his ruined jacket and bloodstained tie, then unbuttoned his shirt. His vision went a little blurry as he peeled the sleeves loose and dropped it, then went for the snaps on his binder as he debated removing it so Ignis could see his bruises, like he'd asked. Six, _Ignis._ His head spun, and he stumbled and swore. He caught himself on a desk, making it rattle, and Ignis gasped behind him.

“Prompto?!”

“What?!” Prompto jumped and turned around, but dizzied instantly. Ignis had turned around, he realized as he sank against the wall to slide to the floor, and he was dashing towards him.

“I’m sorry - I heard a clatter, I had worried you may have collapsed.” Ignis knelt and held a hand out. “Let me help you.”

Prompto stared at Ignis’ outstretched hand like he’d never seen it before, never noticed how long and elegant his fingers were or how perfect everything about Ignis was. He took Ignis’ hand gingerly, too afraid to put too much weight on him for fear he might just drop him, but Ignis helped him back to a stand and guided him to a chair. Prompto was sure Ignis was getting a good eyeful of his binder, not to mention the old stretchmarks on his belly and arms, and likely drawing all sorts of conclusions. He was almost happy he had a headache this bad: he might not remember why Ignis would never talk to him again. Ignis, to his credit, said nothing. He just helped Prompto out of his slacks (split right down the back seam, of course) and put his own jacket around Prompto’s shoulders before taking his cell phone out of his back pocket.

“I’m going to ask Gladio to leave your clothing outside the door. I believe Noctis mentioned you were shy about changing for gym, but it had rather slipped my mind until now.” He tapped out a message, but Prompto saw his eyes flashing over him every few seconds. He didn’t say anything, however, but knelt in front of him, holding his hand in front of his face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Four.” Ignis seemed to be holding still now, and Prompto’s vision was getting less wobbly. Ignis nodded, satisfied.

“Do you recall how many times you hit your head - ah, your nose is still bleeding. Here, let’s not mess up your undershirt, too.”

Prompto blanched as Ignis pressed the kerchief under his nose again, but somehow, Ignis’ expression was gentle and kind, even concerned, behind those glasses, even as Ignis acknowledged the very thing that Prompto just knew would tear his friends away.

Even so, Ignis had him dead to rights. There was no point in dancing around it.

“S’not an undershirt,” he mumbled around the kerchief, before taking it and holding it to catch the blood. Ignis sealed his mouth into a line for a moment.

“No, I didn’t think it was.” He was eeriely breezy and detached for someone ripping Prompto’s self-esteem to shreds. “It looks rather too tight for that.” Ignis stood to his full height, but seemed to consciously loosen his stance, pretending ease in an effort to catch Prompto off-guard. “I have no intention of demanding details of you, nor questioning you.” He paused, glancing down. “After all, I’ve read the background check performed on you when you first approached Noctis.”

Prompto cringed at his own stupidity. “Oh.” Of course there would be a background check. He was hanging with the _Prince_ in his personal apartment on a regular basis, for Ramuh’s sake, not going to Cactuar Willie’s for a pizza party with Julius No-Name from down the road.

“I would ask - no, no, I shouldn’t.” Ignis tensed and pinched his brow, as Prompto’s shoulders slumped.

“You prob’ly know the answer already, ask away.” Prompto flapped the hand that wasn’t holding Ignis’ bloody kerchief. Ignis knit his eyebrows up, but spoke reluctantly:

“I haven’t disclosed anything to Noctis that you haven’t told him yourself unless I thought it was crucial. Mainly, that you were adopted from Niflheim. He was completely unconcerned, for the record. Gladiolus was offered the chance to review your file, but he said he’d judge you for himself. So far, by the by, he’s judged you favorably, quote, ‘for a civvie,’ end quote.” Ignis paused. “I am aware that you were born -”

“Defective,” Prompto muttered. “That’s what they said. I’m _defective_.”

Ignis was silent, staring aghast for a long moment, before whispering: “You were assigned female at birth, but have lived as male since you were quite young.”

“Being a guy works better for me, or looking like one does.” He owed Ignis the truth, straightforward and simple: “I don’t honestly know if I’m a guy or a girl, but I like being a guy better, like, sixty percent of the time, so I just keep it that way so people don’t ask questions.”

“Ah. I see.” Ignis nodded, rubbing his chin and studying the ground at Prompto’s feet. “I didn't see evidence that you've requested any surgical modifications, but I had assumed your age was the reason you hadn’t had any procedures done.”

Prompto just shrugged. “I dunno if I want any. I’m okay looking the way I do and being the way I am. I’m fine with not really being either.”

“I see,” Ignis repeated, sounding so neutral Prompto just wanted to scream and beg Ignis to yell at him, just to get it over with.

“Is ... that what you wanted to know?”

“No.” Ignis knelt by him again, looking into his eyes. “Why haven’t you told Noctis? Or Gladio? And though I may have known, you didn’t tell me.”

Prompto inhaled, but tried to sigh out his anxiety. He owed Ignis an explanation, at the very least. “Because even if I’m okay with me, I'm scared other people won't be okay with me.” Prompto curled in on himself, then glanced down into the kerchief. It looked like the blood was drying, anyway, but now the pain in his heart was stronger than anywhere else. “I mean, Noct is my only friend. He’ll probably think I’m weird for not being a guy or a girl. Gladio’d probably laugh at me forever. And … and then you …”

“Noctis,” Ignis said softly, “wouldn’t care. Nothing would change about you, he’d just know a little more of who you are. Gladio isn't the type to disrespect anyone based on either gender or personal preference and even if Gladio did dare say a single unkind word, Noctis would rip him a new one. As for me, I have no intention on judging you, nor have I any intention on asking you to change. If what those cruel young men said to you has affected your opinion of yourself, I’ll simply have to convince you of the obverse.” Amazingly, Ignis smiled. “You’re a good person, Prompto. It does not matter what you are, where you came from, or what you were born to be, you are the you we’ve met now.”

Prompto’s face was leaking again, and Ignis found another kerchief and dabbed at his eyes. “Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright. You’re not defective, Prompto. You are perfectly you, just as you are.”

Prompto tried to talk, but all that came out was senseless babble, words smashed into each other in a maelstrom of relief devastating his tongue. “Ig - I - you - I’m - hnggg-” Ignis hushed him and enveloped him in a hug.

“There, now. If the truth hurts, let me soothe it.” Ignis smoothed his hair, and he slumped in the desk chair again. “You are fine exactly as you are, Prompto.”

Prompto’s therapist had asked him, more than once, what he wanted to be. He’d always said he wasn’t sure, but he’d never thought of being fine as he was.

There was a knock on the door, and Ignis rose to answer it. He heard Ignis say a few hushed words to Gladio, before returning with his gym shirt and shorts. “A bit sweaty, but this will suffice until we can find something clean for you, won’t it?” Prompto nodded a little, not quite ready to trust his mouth. “I’d like to have you seen by a doctor before I take you back, and it would make me feel most comfortable to watch you overnight myself. Is that acceptable to you?” Prompto nodded hard, before discovering that was a mistake that made his brain swish around in his skull. “I’m also going to let Noctis know there was an incident, so he won’t be too surprised.” Prompto made an unhappy noise, but nodded again. Ignis seemed relieved, shoulders relaxing. “I’m glad you agree.” Ignis helped him dress again and gathered up his ruined uniform, and Prompto reveled in Ignis’ warmth, the world feeling as gold as the gradual sunset outside.

Gladio was waiting out in the hall, arms crossed as Prompto limped out with Ignis at his side. He turned to meet them and patted Prompto's head, then crouched a little to look him over. “You gonna be okay, chocobutt?”

“Mhm. Just glad you were here to come to the rescue.” Prompto’s smile was a lot more wobbly and pathetic than he’d like, but Gladio seemed satisfied, anyway.

“Yeah, lucky the two of us were just gonna surprise the Prince by having you waiting at the house with a couple pizzas. Guess he’s gonna have a different surprise: mainly, you taking some damn self-defense classes from me with him.” Gladio clapped him on the shoulder again, and Prompto winced. Gladio flinched and jerked his hand back. “Shit, you bruise easy.”

“Gladiolus, be gentle. He’s had a trying afternoon.” Ignis sounded like a cross mother hen, but Gladio snorted.

“Yeah, yeah.” Gladio was impossibly gentle when he patted Prompto on the back again. “You shouldn’t have had to put up with that. Next time someone even tries it, you tell me, okay?” Prompto nodded and let the other two guide him out, with their hands on his back.

Maybe after that, Prompto felt a little less like there was _everything_ wrong with him. Call him defective or whatever he was, maybe he felt like he belonged with these people just a little more.

Even so, the real trouble had yet to even begin.


	2. The Night of the Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto is invited to Noctis' formal 18th birthday celebration, and prepares for the worst in hopes to impress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with 50% more Promnis content. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

**2\. The Night of the Ball**

Noctis’ 18th birthday was coming up, and it had spurred a spat of bittersweet recollections as the Citadel geared up for a ball. Prompto heard all about previous royal events from Gladio and Noct, the two of them laughing about how bored they each were and the dumb games they played under the tables to keep themselves amused through boring speeches and overly formal dancing. Gladio snorted cup noodle broth out of his nose when Noctis told Prompto about the time an elderly countess chewed him out in front of King Regis for using the seafood fork to spear smoked sausage off of a charcuterie platter. Ignis quietly defended the pomp of the events, right down to the way-too-many utensils and the fancy dress. “It's meant to project pride, and strength in our identity as a country." He peered around the counter from the sink to motion to Noct and Gladio on the sofa. "Noctis and Gladio are expected to set an example both of national identity - hence why their dress clothes are in the national colors - and of the regality to which Insomnia holds itself. It projects strength and solidarity-”

“Yeah, that's what we want to project to the Empire.” Noctis rolled his eyes and kicked his feet onto his coffee table. “We are a nation of boring old windbags who all dress the same, don't invade us or we'll bore you to death. Specs, you're Tenebraean, aren't you? Why do you care about those snoozefests?”

“Noct.” Ignis invoked his name with obvious exasperation and possibly a subtle threat, shifting his glasses up to smear a hand down his face. Noctis slouched down as if he could sink out of the room. “If you continually bemoan the royal fetes, Prompto won't want to go to the next one.”

Prompto shot up where he'd been lounging on the sofa next to Noctis. “Wait, I'm going to a ball?!”

Noctis gaped at him, wide-eyed. “Yeah, duh! It's my birthday. It's my coming of age and all so it's a big deal, but you're my best friend and I want to invite you." He rolled his eyes, but grinned with mischief. "Seriously, Gladio's old man started taking his phone away, so you gotta come so I don't die of boredom. That way, I get to have more cool birthdays.” He grabbed Prompto's shoulder. “It's a drag, but can you come?”

Gladio snorted and Ignis hid his amusement with a sigh behind a smile, as Prompto exploded with excitement: “Are you kidding?! For sure! You couldn't pay me to not wanna come! I'll even learn the utensils and wear the fancy suit and be happy about it, even if they sit me all the way in the back - ooh, can I take pictures? I'll be the unofficial royal photographer and stuff, you don't even have to pay me! Of course I wanna go! This is gonna be awesome!” Noct was laughing with him, obviously more than a little amused.

“With you there, for sure. I used to get excited about ‘em, too. It'll be nice not to be alone.”

They were all smiling with approval, amusement, excitement, but then the reality of it hit him. He was going to a _Royal Ball_. _He_ was going to a _Royal Ball_. _Six_.

Prompto had celebrated Noctis’ last two birthdays with meat lover’s pizza and video game marathons of epic proportions, but it had just been the four of them in his apartment. This was an Official Royal Event.

This could go wrong in a thousand ways, ways that would make Noct hate him, or be embarrassed of him, or make Noct wish he'd never met him, and Prompto was sure he'd find at least a hundred. Still, he gathered his wits and set about trying to avoid as many pitfalls as he could.

Prompto asked his parents for an advance on his allowance so he could buy a suit, and Ignis volunteered to help him tailor it. (He enjoyed Ignis measuring him more than he'd ever admit, especially the part where Ignis wrapped his arms around his chest to measure his chest circumference.) Prompto got a book on royal etiquette and studied it whenever he could, over breakfast, before bed, or when he was waiting for photos to develop in the dark room, ducking under the table with a flashlight so he could keep reading. He practiced his bows and handshakes in the mirror. Noctis rolled his eyes when he caught Prompto studying over lunch - “Seriously, I don't care about that stuff, don't sweat the court script stupidity-” but Prompto wanted to impress. After all, he might actually get to meet King Regis when he wasn't sneaking Noctis’ vegetables off of his plate! He didn't want to get thrown in the dungeon or led to the guillotine for saying the wrong thing!

Did they even use the guillotine anymore? Prompto didn't want to find out the hard way. 

Plus, there was the dancing. Could he go to jail for doing the Funky Chocobo at a Royal Ball? Probably, but that was the only dance he knew. Prompto must have spent two solid days watching ballroom dancing videos online, even teaching himself a few steps. He had no illusions anyone would actually dance with him, no matter how much he wished _someone_ would. He told himself he was just boning up on it like the rest of the court and royalty stuff, just in case he was mandated to participate in some dance, and not on the off chance he got the nerve to ask Ignis for a dance.

Ignis was impressed with his protocol, at least, after quizzing Prompto during the last suit fitting the day before the ball. “You could teach Noctis a thing or two,” he remarked with a smirk as he pulled the last few pins out of the jacket, looking impossibly cool as he worked despite the August swelter. “Perhaps you can help him tell the fish fork from the salad fork.”

“Easy. He might actually use the fish fork.” Prompto grinned as he straightened his lapel and turned so he could see himself from every angle. “This is great! I've never looked this good.”

“Tailored suits work miracles.” Ignis tipped his nose with his finger. “I did accommodate for your figure. It's a tad forgiving in the chest, given your shape.” Prompto shivered a little, but Ignis waved his hands. “Er, not like that, I mean to say-”

“No, I get ya.” Prompto furrowed his brow and glanced over his figure. He looked pretty masculine - not Gladio masculine, but just masculine enough. “I got a new binder too, but that's already fitted pretty well.”

“Ah. Yes.” Ignis nodded with approval. “You'll cut a dashing figure, I dare say. If there are any ladies your age, they'll surely go out of their way for a dance with the Prince's best friend.”

“You think?” Prompto grinned at him, then turned back to Ignis’ mirror. He could see Ignis observing him in the mirror with a faint, wistful smile, probably admiring his work. “Well, I don't want too full of a dance card! I’m not going to distract folks from Noctis, either.”

“He'll appreciate if you do. Truly.” Ignis circled around to Prompto's front again. “I have one more accessory for you.” He took a pin from his jacket pocket and carefully affixed it to the suit’s left breast pocket. “This is Noctis’ personal sigil. It's for official events and public appearances, for members of his court. It won't be official until he takes the throne, but it marks you as a member of his inner circle.” Ignis patted Prompto's chest as he fixed the pin there, then pulled away. “Count yourself among the very few he trusts so deeply. Trust like that which we all share is a rare gift.”

Prompto hated how easily Ignis could make him blush, and hoped he could pass it off as embarrassment at Noctis’ high regard of him rather than being flustered at Ignis’ implication that _he_ trusted Prompto that deeply too. “Six, Iggy, am I that important?”

“Much more so.” Ignis was pointedly staring into his bag as he packed up his pins and scissors. “I've been asked to pick you up personally. I'll arrive two hours before the ball is set to start in order to avoid any possible traffic, and also so I can personally show you the amuse-bouche trays.” Ignis’ eyes sparkled with mischief. “And sample the ones made with my recipes, before the greedy sot of a Superior Judge from Galdin Quay gets his grubby fingers all over them.”

Prompto grinned, face hot. Six, Ignis looking this radiant would kill him. (At least he had a fetching suit to be buried in.) “I can't say it enough: you're the best, Iggy.”

Sure enough, Ignis was five minutes early with the Regalia outside of Prompto's building. He was already dressed, a white dress shirt replacing his usual patterned button-down, his suit jacket pressed and impeccable, hair combed instead of slicked back, _so handsome_ , and Prompto had to forcibly keep his feet on the ground as he stepped out of his front door and approached. Ignis even circled the car to open the passenger side door for him, inviting him in with a satin-gloved hand. “Sir,” he intoned with a little wink, and Prompto laughed as he reached him.

“C'mon, Iggy, I'm no Sir, don't pretend I'm Noct!”

“I'm not.” Ignis closed the door before Prompto could, circled back to the driver's seat and joined him, then added in a whisper, “You're punctual. I have to usher him about with a cattle prod.”

Prompto laughed hard into his hands, and Ignis laughed too as he put the car in drive and took off.

Ignis circumvented the limousines lined up around the corner by flashing a badge to the guard at the gate, which let him park under the Citadel. He led Prompto in through a series of clandestine hallways and slipped in through a side door, and Prompto found himself on a balcony overlooking the Citadel's ballroom. Prompto could guesstimate that least a hundred people in haute culture gowns or perfectly tailored suits were already strolling the floor, taking appetizers from trays carried by impeccably dressed serving staff, and there were more clamoring at the door where King Regis (with a ginormous dude Prompto was sure was Gladio's dad and also definitely a Sir), Noctis (with Gladio, wearing an actual shirt with his Crownsguard uniform, natch), and a few other people wearing royal sashes were standing, greeting everyone who entered. Noctis was wearing his royal raiment, black and silver with all sorts of medals down his sash, a crown, and a familiar dour expression. Still, he somberly shook every hand and murmured something or other - Prompto couldn’t lip read, especially not this far away - and Ignis chuckled through his nose.

“He’s not going to remember a single one of those very important dignitaries’ names. I’d best go attend him.” Ignis pointed at the large table at the front of the room. “You’ll be there on the far right, next to Gladio.”

“In the front?!” Prompto squeaked a little. “Oh - wow! Like I’m -”

“Noctis’ best friend, yes. That’s where his friends sit.” Ignis clapped him on the shoulder to cut off a self-deprecating exclamation that Prompto knew Ignis would have scowled at. “Pardon me while I go assist Noctis. Go and be your usual charming self, and no doubt Noctis will make a beeline for you the moment he’s done greeting our esteemed guests.”

Prompto tried not to think about why Ignis was sneaking him in through the side as Ignis dashed down the stairs to join Noctis in the receiving line, and descended a few seconds later to roam the room. He bypassed the dance floor, the women in their sparkly black and silver gowns and men in jet black suits, and grabbed a shrimp cocktail off of a tray as he took in the sights, the candelabras and the ornate tablecloths and runners down the tables, the full cutlery settings. He discreetly took pictures of everything he could, artsy shots of the dancing and mingling, Noctis shaking hands with some gentleman wearing a big shiny medal with Ignis hovering at his shoulder, and even managed a snap of Gladio in his suit, just so he could prove to himself later that Gladio knew how to wear a shirt with sleeves. He knew he was being watched, but tried to ignore it. After all, he imagined the nobles had little better to do with their time than gossip, and they could talk about him all they wanted and not have to worry about getting him mad.

The court manners he’d practiced felt like a stiff coat he’d forced himself into, and trying to remember the etiquette now just made him queasy. Still, he tried his best, desperate not to embarrass Noct. He kept watching for Noct, half-hoping he was watching, half-wishing Noct wasn’t seeing him make a fool out of himself.

He also kept an eye on Ignis through the crowd. He couldn’t help it, Ignis just drew his eye like a magnet drew in screws, and whenever Ignis caught him looking, he’d shoot a smile in his direction, reminding Prompto of just how screwed he was. Prompto couldn’t help but envy the dancing couples, hand in hand and so close, but he could see that some of them weren’t even looking at each other. He would sell his front teeth for a chance to hold Ignis that close, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes off of him. However, as it was, Prompto kept losing sight of him through the throngs, and when the receiving line dispersed, Ignis vanished into the revelers. True to what Ignis had said, though, Noctis did cut through the crowd and came right for him, hooking him by the elbow and smiling for the first time Prompto had seen that night.

“Looking sharp, dude. Specs did a good job spiffing you up.” He tugged Prompto’s collar, pulling it out of place, then pointed towards the buffet at the back of the room. “Come on, let's-”

“Noct?” Prompto had only ever heard that voice on TV, and it was just as authoritative and booming as it was on the loudspeakers. King Regis was coming towards them now, walking strong but slow to balance his braced knee. He had a serene smile, but Prompto couldn't be sure it was a happy smile. “This is the famous Prompto, I take it?”

Prompto remembered his court manners and bowed at the waist, as deep as he could. “Your Majesty, it's an honor to meet you.”

Noctis scoffed. “Yeah, Dad, this's Prompto. C'mon, Prom, there's tuna tataki and I wanna get some before it's gone.”

Noctis was yanking him arm rather insistently, gaze darting between Prompto and his dad, subtly jerking his head away, and Prompto realized that he really didn't want King Regis to talk to him. “Oh, um, sure. Excuse me, Your Majesty.” Prompto bowed again, and let Noctis lead him off.

“You don't gotta do all that,” Noctis muttered. “Just be you. Everyone else wastes all their time buttering me and Dad up. You're not like that. You don't want anything from me, do you?”

“Just you, dude.” Prompto smirked and punched his shoulder lightly. “And maybe a joyride in that fancy car.”

Noctis chuckled under his breath. “Get me the keys out of Specs’ pocket and we'll talk.”

He and Noctis rambled the ballroom, trying appetizers off of every tray (so long as Noctis didn't see vegetables) and laughing about some of the ridiculous hats and outfits. When the meal came, Prompto was three seats away from Noctis, but Noctis communicated his opinion of the meal in a precariously constructed pidgin language of snorts, eye rolls, and twitching mouth. Prompto wished he knew sign language so he could argue without making a scene, since he thought the food was amazing, but ll he could do was shake his head and stick his tongue out at Noctis, and eat the glazed baby carrots with disgusting glee when he knew Noct was watching and pulling faces.

The speeches were interminable. Prompto tried to look interested and respectful throughout, and Noctis put on a serious expression and pretended to listen. Just like school, really. Then, the big one, King Regis’ conclusion to his screed about how proud he was of Noctis:

“I trust my son will someday lead us into a bright future.” He raised his wine glass. “It is with immense anticipation and joy that I announce the betrothal of my son and heir, Noctis Lucis Caelum, to the Oracle, Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret.”

The room erupted in applause, but Prompto saw Noctis smear a hand over his crimson cheeks. As King Regis went on about looking forward to a mutually fruitful relationship with their new allies in the Empire’s sphere of influence and looking forward solidifying the terms of a peace treaty, Noctis just looked more and more uncomfortable. As the applause faded out and the crowd rose to begin the dancing again, Prompto shot over to where Noctis was seated.

“Hey, dude, are you okay?”

“Fine.” Noct shook his head. “Like, I'm apparently marrying a girl I met years ago and haven't seen since, but whatever, right?”

Prompto had never met Lady Lunafreya, but he knew her name, her face, and the smell of her sylleblossom perfume. She seemed to be super nice and kind, and yet… “Your dad didn't tell you?”

“Nope.” Noctis sneered towards the table. “I guess he would've got down on one knee for me, if he could.”

“Oh, man.” Prompto shook his head. “I'm sorry, dude.”

“I shouldn't be surprised. At least I met her at all. We write, too, and I ... I like her, anyway." Noct struggled, jaw clenched and stiff as he visibly warred with his emotions. "And ... Dad loved Mom, and they didn't actually meet until after they got married. She sent a proxy wearing a thick veil, and just … signed the papers when they met for the honeymoon. I’ll at least get to see Luna again before that. Maybe. At least we’ve met once before.” Noctis seemed to crumble. “It's okay. I have an excuse not to dance with anyone now, anyway.” He got up, throwing his napkin down and shoving his chair back. “I need some air. Alone.”

“Oh, sure.” Prompto tried to smother his disappointment and stepped back as Noctis stormed off. Prompto wanted to follow him, but maybe this was something Noct needed to handle alone. This was somewhere Prompto couldn't go, and wouldn't have to. Nobody expected him to marry for his country. He could decide that for himself, assuming anyone wanted to marry him at all.

He was still watching the space where Noct had disappeared, when a large hand touched his shoulder. “Here you are again.” King Regis was standing right behind him, and Prompto jumped a foot.

“Oh! Good evening again, Your Majesty!” He bowed again and didn’t dare lift his head or face. “Congratulations on the marriage - um - treaty - Nocti- _Prince_ Noctis -”

“Now, now.” Regis chuckled a little, waving the hand that wasn’t gripping his cane. “I believe my son said that such formalities are unnecessary. Do you treat all of your friends’ parents like this?”

“Well, I haven’t met Iggy - Mr. Scientia’s parents, or Gl - Mr. Amicitia’s dad, and I don’t … really …” Prompto bit his lip as Regis laughed softly. Astrals, at least the King hopefully only thought he was an idiot. “I guess I still think of you as King, sir.”

“But I’m your friend’s father, too, and I regret that we haven’t met until now.” King Regis motioned to the emptied edge of the room with his cane. “Perhaps we could have a brief conversation as Noct’s friend and Noct’s father.”

“S… sir.” Prompto followed as King Regis walked, motioning for him to join him. He hadn’t expected King Regis to be so warm personally. He always had a kind, but stern expression when he appeared on TV, and Noctis always seemed to talk about him like they weren’t related. Still, that might’ve just been Noct being Noct.

Somehow, Prompto could already tell how much Regis loved his only son.

“I can’t say enough how happy I was when Noctis told me he’d made a friend his age at school. I believe that was the first time I saw the boy smile in over a year.” Regis led Prompto on a gradual walk around the room, far from the dance floor. Prompto deliberately slowed himself to match Regis’ pace. “When we meet, he always mentions you, some joke you made, some story. He’ll even show me some of the pictures you’ve taken of your adventures together.”

Prompto laughed nervously. “Uh, well, you know how it goes, I can’t resist a good shot.”

Regis’ face crinkled up as he smiled. “You have a knack for catching his good side.” He walked on, and Prompto remained beside him as he surveyed the room. “I’ve heard a few complaints, here and there; that you distract Noct from his responsibilities and are taking him off course, but it’s so very easy to forget that he’s still a child, growing into a man. Too many around us, around him, have striven to make him into a man faster which only led to him rejecting those responsibilities. You’ve given him an avenue to still be a teenager.” Regis patted his shoulder. “It’s strange, to thank someone for helping his son to be a child.”

Prompto flushed and fidgeted. “It’s nothing special, your Majesty, he’s my friend, that’s all.”

“It’s just that, though.” Regis snapped his fingers, smiling warmly at Prompto. “He’s a friend to you first. Do you call him Prince, or ‘your Highness?’”

“N … no. That’s okay, right?”

“Very much so. It’s the best thing for him, to be able to forget who he is, to just be Noct instead of Prince.” Regis halted, taking Prompto’s wrist and turning to face him. “You’ve lit up his life. He’s always so somber and dark, but you’re bright and light. I’m grateful for that.” He lowered his voice. “As I am King, it would be wrong for me to ask you to make a promise, or to ask you any favors, especially for something as subjective as friendship, but as Regis, as Noctis’ father and only as that, can I ask you to stay with him? Even as he takes his next steps towards being a man and King, he needs someone like you to keep him human.”

Prompto’s chest wrought up in an instant. This was _the King_ asking him, after all. Even so, he knew his answer in an instant. “I’ll never walk away from Noct, sir. He’d have to boot me out himself! Or, y’know, make Gladio … lus do it.” Prompto swallowed hard as Regis studied him again, still smiling with approval.

“I don’t think Gladio would lay a finger on you. He has a begrudging liking of you, or so he told his father. He even compliments your instincts in training, and your optimistic attitude.” Regis nodded towards his Shield, and Prompto realized that the King’s bodyguard had followed them rather closely. “Clarus, Gladio told you, didn’t he? He’s a good boy.” Clarus smirked and nodded a little, and Regis returned his gaze to Prompto. “And he’s not the only one who’s made good reports.” Regis spoke a little softer. “Ignis speaks glowingly of you.”

“He does?”

“He’s as bad as Noct, if you get him started.” Regis had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Not in words, but in his expression. Noctis isn’t the only one you light up, you know.”

Prompto inhaled. “I, um … yeah, Iggy- er, Ignis, he’s -”

“A fine young man, but lonely, too. He doesn’t have any family at all; his parents died in a border skirmish. He was raised by an uncle, a steward in my service who passed away several years ago.” Regis glanced sideways, and Prompto followed his gaze to see Regis looking out towards the balcony, where Prompto could just catch a glimpse of Ignis by his silhouette. “I can’t tell you who to be friends with and how, but might I suggest you take a second look at your friendship with him?”

Prompto’s heart was trying to tear its way out of his chest. This was surreal. Was the King himself actually trying to hook him up with Ignis? Just then, the King’s advisor cleared his throat, and King Regis glanced to him. “Is it that time? Pity. I must cut our conversation short, Prompto, but I do hope we can speak again.” Regis patted his shoulder. “I hear rumors you were considering joining the Crownsguard. I encourage it, and hope to see you in the Citadel much more often.”

“Thank you, sir.” Prompto bowed even though Regis had told him not to, then turned back towards the balcony where he’d caught sight of Ignis again. If King Regis - who only knew him by reputation! - said he should consider things again, then maybe it was at least worth asking him.

Then again, he found himself vacillating as he moved through the room, King Regis did only know what he was told. Ignis knew him much better than that. Ignis was probably just happy Noct had a friend. He probably just liked that Prompto was cooperative and nice, ate everything on his plate, and tried not to cause trouble. Prompto was just an okay guy: nothing special. Ignis was special.

“You’re an idiot, Igs.”

And yet, somehow Prompto had found himself at the balcony door, only to find that Ignis wasn’t alone. Gladio was propped on the railing next to Ignis and elbowing him in the side, as Ignis, gazing up at the Moon visible over the Wall, pointedly avoided his gaze. Prompto ducked aside behind the curtain, as Gladio slapped him on the back. “Come on, dummy, you know exactly how it’d go, and if you don't, you're fooling yourself. You’re acting stupid for such a smart guy.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“And now you’re acting like I’m stupid.” Gladio scoffed, then doffed his jacket and mopped his forehead with it. “I’m not. My dad isn't, but he barely sees you and _he_ noticed. Holy Six, you’re so obvious. Smiling like a dork every time you see him, making the foods he likes best even when Noct is whining about vegetables, all-nighters because you were obsessing over that jacket -”

“I had to ensure the darts were positioned precisely, it was a matter of doing the job well. He wanted to make a good impression for Noctis. For Lucis. I was duty-bound to help.” Prompto could see Ignis forcing himself to stare off into the distance. “You’re harassing me over something you’ve imagined.”

“I’m not imagining a damn thing; you wanted him to look handsome. You moon so hard over the kid -”

“I do not.”

Gladio snorted and tossed his head back to look down on Ignis. “You might as well drop trou and smack those cheeks because you’re _mooning._ ” Ignis huffed with disgust, and Gladio poked his side again and spoke softer, “You might as well shine down from up there and light his eyes up because you get all floaty and bouncy every time he smiles and it makes you so damn happy to see him looking cute. Mooning.” He leaned around to try to catch Ignis’ eyes. “Specs. You’re out here avoiding the dancing because every unmarried woman in Eos would give their eye teeth for a dance with you, and you don’t want the one person you do want right now to see you with anyone else.”

Prompto saw Ignis bow his head. “Gladiolus. It’s enough. I know you’re trying to help, but Prompto’s …” Prompto covered his mouth so Ignis wouldn’t hear him choking on his breath, as Ignis shook his head. “If he were interested in me, I’d know it, and I have no intention on pressuring him into anything. He’s too eager to please. I’d know he would only be with me because he likes to see me happy.”

Was he hearing this? Was he hearing it right? Prompto tried to think, because it was true, Ignis seemed happy when he was around. Were maybe a few of those smiles because he liked Prompto a little more than just as Noct’s friend?

If it was true, Ignis wasn’t saying it.

Gladio was quiet for a moment, mulling over Ignis’ answer, then poked the back of his head and said, _sotto voce_ , “Iggy. Speccy. Come on. You ever think about why he likes to see you happy? You’re fooling yourself if you honestly think he wouldn’t wanna at least try.”

“Gladio. I’m not some hero in one of your romance novels.”

“Actually, I’m kinda convinced you’re the heroine.”

_“Gladio.”_

“He's eager to please but not desperate. If I asked him for a smooch, you just know he’d laugh that nervous laugh, make a dumb excuse, and bolt.” Gladio wagged an eyebrow and smirked. “I want you to go ahead and find out what that face looks like when you tell him.”

“Gladio, please. He might not be interested in men.” Ignis was holding his head, and Gladio crossed his arms.

“Only one way to find out. It’s your decision, but just know this: if you don’t grow a pair and tell him, you’re an idiot wasting your time pining like the Nebulawood when you very well could be getting busy.”

Ignis groaned as Gladio pivoted and strolled off. “He’s seventeen!”

“For two more months!” Gladio laughed, and Prompto ducked back as he passed. However, Gladio swung into the same section of curtains Prompto had hid in and bent down to whisper in his ear. “Okay, kid, I’ve done the warm-up work. Now if he’s not going to rub those brain cells together and ask you out, you go seal the deal. Oh, and don’t do anything stupid until he gives you a really good birthday gift, okay?” Gladio grinned with all his teeth, then swaggered off with his jacket slung over his shoulder, hailing one of the staff and asking for a glass of wine, and Prompto turned back towards where Ignis still stood, head hung low.

He swallowed hard, hoped Gladio had meant exactly what he thought he meant, and strolled out.

“Yo!” Ignis turned his head as Prompto approached, smiling with a hand to hail him. “I was lookin for ya! What’re you doing out here?”

Ignis studied Prompto for a moment before answering, too carefully: “It’s a bit warm in there, and I’ve had a glass or two of champagne. I needed the air.”

“Yeah, I hear you. It's awful stuffy in there, and I'm not just talking about the stuffed shirts.” Prompto propped himself against the balcony railing next to Ignis. “Wow, though. I’ve never seen the city from this high up.” He gazed across the Insomnian skyline, the tapestry of white lights against the black city mirroring the stars and ebony sky above. He took up his camera to take a shot, only to find Ignis immediately in the viewfinder. His throat went dry. He took the shot anyway, Ignis looking wistful and beautiful and just a little sad against the sea of twinkling white. “It’s an amazing view. I’ll remember forever.” He put the camera away and scooted a little closer. “I guess you’re used to this, huh?”

“I’ve seen it before, but now that you mention it, it is beautiful. I suppose I became so used to it, I forgot how lovely it was.” Ignis’ gaze refocused, and Prompto could see him taking the vista in. “It really is. Thank you for reminding me.”

“You’re welcome.” Prompto grinned, then sidled a little closer. “I guess … it’s easy to miss stuff, when it’s staring you in the face all day.”

“Mm.” Ignis nodded. Prompto fidgeted, waiting for Ignis to say something, but he just seemed moody and put-out. Crap, this was no good, retreat, retreat!

No, he told himself.  _He's right there. You could have this. Just reach out!_

“Um.” Prompto nervously drummed his fingers on the railing. “Did you, um, wanna go back in and dance?”

Ignis actually laughed softly, but shook his head. "Can you keep a secret?"

Prompto nodded. "Of course. You keep mine."

"I'm afraid mine is vastly more scandalous." Ignis tore his gaze away from the Moon to the ground. “Truth be told, I can’t dance.”

“What? Get out of town.” Prompto spun around to face him. “But you can do _everything!_ Not even a little? Not even enough to teach Noct?”

“I can do many things, but that’s simply not one of them.” Ignis clicked his tongue. “He had a professional teach him to dance. I merely herded him to the lessons.”

Prompto stifled a laugh. “Did they make you stand in for his partner?”

“No, no.” Ignis covered his mouth to disguise a smirk. “I watched, but I’m afraid I Iearned nothing. I admit, I’m somewhat embarrassed.” He scrubbed his hand over his mouth. “What of you? Did you perhaps want to dance?” Ignis’ gaze tipped towards him, but Prompto felt eye contact like an impact. “Were there no eligible ladies hoping for a chance with the Prince’s friend?”

“Nah, none of them looked at me twice. I like the way you look at me better.” Prompto tried to bite his own tongue off the second he said it. Ignis had heard it. “Um - I mean -” Ignis was staring, and now Prompto had made it awkward. “I … um … _Six_.” He sighed and looked down. “I really just came out here to thank you, Iggy. Not just for helping me with this, but for, like, everything. You’re always so nice to me, and you try to make me feel like I fit in even when I’m, y’know, me.”

“You don’t have to fit in. You’re perfect the way you are.” Ignis turned and reached for him, and Prompto swore he felt a spark.

“I dunno what you mean by that.” Prompto took Ignis’ hand. “I can’t be perfect. I’m not you.” He stepped in a little closer. “But, hey, if you did want to dance, you can dance with me, if you like. I've never danced with anyone before, so I'm not very good, but you don’t have to be perfect to dance with someone.” Ignis turned, eyebrows raised in surprise, as Prompto backed up a step and held a hand out, offering a grin. “I can lead, if you like! Nobody can see us out here, so you can be a little embarrassed and I’m the only one who’ll see.”

“Prompto -”

“And..." Prompto bit the bullet and swallowed. "So this is super embarrassing but, well …” His face took heat, but he kept smiling. “I kinda have a gigantic crush on you, so I had this stupid fantasy of dancing with you.”

Ignis’ eyes went wide, and Prompto was sure he was the only human being alive who’d ever seen Ignis dumbfounded. Still, Ignis didn’t say anything or move, and Prompto’s hand shook. There went that. “Uh. Well. Guess that’s fair.” He dropped his hands and made to step back. “Okay, so, now we’re both embarrassed. I’m gonna go find out if the staff handing out wine is checking IDs.” He made to pivot around, but Ignis snatched his arm.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed of.” Ignis’ grip was tight on his arm. “Prompto, if I might confess something yet more embarrassing? I … I’ve been wondering if you might not see me as more than merely a friend of a friend. Or, perhaps, if you could.”

Fireworks lit through Prompto, and he let himself turn into Ignis’ arms. “Yeah. I’ve been wishing you saw me as more than a dumb kid, and … I mean, you know what I am.”

“Cheerful? Delightful? Enthusiastic? Handsome? Do I need to go on?” Ignis gripped his hand, thumb running over his knuckles. “If you’re talking about something else, let me say in the most straightforward way, I don’t care. I’ve never cared about things like that. We can work on the details as we go, but if you’re saying what you seem to be saying, then I wholeheartedly agree.”

Ignis took Prompto’s other hand, and Prompto naturally took stance as the music swelled from the ballroom, one hand holding Ignis’ to the side, and the other on his shoulder. Prompto gazed into Ignis’ eyes, holding him tight so Ignis couldn’t feel him shaking. “I like you, Iggy. Like, _like_ like you. I have practically since we met.”

“Prompto…” Ignis' mouth worked, but then he relaxed into the hold. “The feeling is mutual.” He let Prompto lead him on a few awkward box steps, because true to his word, Ignis seemed unsure of what to do with his feet. “I’m … I’m not sure… I’ve taken lovers before, but I’ve never felt like...”

“I’ve never been in love before, either.” Prompto picked up where Ignis trailed off, holding his eyes and exploring every detail of those brilliant irises. Even in the dark, they were as green as could be. “But we’ll figure it out! And if you don’t love me, then-”

“Don’t say foolish things.” Ignis steadied his rhythm just long enough to lead Prompto in a twirl. “Really,” he added as he caught him. “I worry you’ll tire of my affections too quickly.”

“Gimme a chance to surprise you.” Prompto was certain that he could never tire of Ignis’ attention. He never wanted Ignis to look away from him, to be apart from him, to stop being just like this. He’d never imagined this moment could come, and yet here he was, in love with the man of his dreams and wondering how to segue from awkward waltzing into teaching Ignis the Funky Chocobo.

How could things have possibly gone this  _right?_

Prompto knew it couldn’t be this simple or this easy forever. They were both in complicated places, and things would only get stranger from here, but for now, it didn't matter where they were. They had each other.


	3. Secrets, Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto's relationship with Ignis isn't perfect, but it's great. In fact, it seems like everything is finally going right for Prompto, until Noctis has to leave the Crown City with all three of his friends/personal retinue for a certain wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a friendly warning for those of you who may be uncomfortable with such things, this chapter briefly explores sexual intimacy between Prompto and Ignis. I decided not to take explicit detail too far here, but it is mentioned and discussed.
> 
> Please also note that I quote some dialogue from the game nearly directly towards the end of the chapter.

**3: Secrets, Safe**

Prompto and Ignis never made a conscious decision not to disclose their relationship to Gladiolus and Noctis. Ignis was the first to put it off, insisting he was loathe to let Gladio win their last argument on the subject. Prompto had found Ignis’ bullheadedness hilarious enough to let it slide. Prompto suspected that Ignis eventually let slip to Gladio that he and Prompto were more than friends, if the occasional wink he caught out of Gladio told Prompto anything, but Noctis was the bigger issue.

Prompto had been planning to tell Noctis, but he saw his face tighten every time some girl or other congratulated him on marrying Lady Lunafreya, saw him get pale and a little nauseous whenever someone swooned over ‘how romantic’ it all was. Day one back at school had Noctis moaning by lunchtime: “If I gotta hear about goopy love stuff one more time, I’m drafting a law to have romance banned.” Now was not a good time to tell Noctis he and Ignis were an item. Given how apathetic and annoyed Noctis seemed by any talk of love or marriage, he never quite summoned the nerve, no matter how much he meant to.

It just never ended up being a good time to formally tell them. They just shared what they could between themselves, around Ignis’ duties to Noctis, whenever they could. It wasn't a lot, but Prompto took whatever he could get. Ignis was still at Noctis’ apartment whenever Noct invited Prompto over, and Ignis seemed to make his favorites more frequently than ever, much to Noctis’ displeasure. Prompto would hover in the kitchen while he was cooking sometimes, helping to taste test and just admiring Ignis’ work more openly than ever. He would sometimes even sit beside them with a book or a report he was reading, hips flush to Prompto’s and pretending complete disinterest in their games. If Prompto leaned onto his shoulder and relaxed against him, if Ignis’ free hand slid around his back to his hip with Noct none the wiser, all the better.

On nights when Prompto didn’t stay at Noct’s way too late, Ignis would make his excuses to leave Noctis to his college studies or reading council reports, then take Prompto home. He didn't drop him off anymore, though, he _came in._ He'd brew a pot of coffee and sit with Prompto, with his laptop open and his shoulder against Prompto's, and Prompto would bust out his Crownsguard training manual, and they'd work or read and talk until it was too late, and it was Heaven. There was a natural ease there, and Prompto felt like he could talk to Ignis about nearly anything.

That was good, because Prompto always had something to say, and Ignis usually had something to say back, some response, some contribution, something he knew about whatever Prompto had said that Prompto didn’t, or at least a clever quip in response. Prompto never felt like all the silly things that ran through his head were irrelevant to Ignis. Ignis listened to him.

“You sure let me talk a lot,” he said once, after a long digression about his experiences trying to cook daggerquill (triggered by Ignis having to patch a few burns on Prompto’s hand from his last attempt to make himself dinner) and Ignis responding to each of his anecdotes with tricks and tips. “You know if I’m ever bugging you, you can tell me to shut up.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow at him. “Have I ever expressed that you’ve annoyed me?” Prompto shook his head. “You haven’t. I enjoy our conversations. You have such a unique perspective, and think of things I’ve never thought about. Even just listening to you makes me smile.”

“Oh. Well, good.” Prompto blushed to his ears. He didn’t know how to tell Ignis that he’d never felt comfortable saying this much to a person at a single time.

Ignis did once ask why his parents were never there. Prompto answered honestly: “They work, and I think they like their jobs. More than they really like me, anyway. You see how much trouble I am.” Ignis had started to get indignant, but Prompto quickly added, “I mean, they probably adopted me because they couldn't have kids of their own, but they got me and all my … problems.”

Ignis managed to temper his ire to a silently boiling fury before he spoke in a dull murmur, “They told you this?”

“Not in words. But I always saw them kinda draw back when my therapist talked about stuff like transitioning and passing. I dunno, maybe it wasn't just that. For as long as I can remember they looked at me like I was a thing, not a person.” He paused, staring impassively down the crease of the manual. “I don't miss ‘em so much anymore. It's okay.”

“It's not, really.”

“Maybe it used to not be okay, but I kinda dealt with it.” He scraped his hair back from his face. “I don't have to miss them. I have friends now.” Ignis wound his arm tighter around Prompto's shoulder.

“I suppose I understand the sentiment.”

Their first kiss was on Prompto's eighteenth birthday, and Prompto would have remembered even if the date weren't already significant. Late in the night, after the party Noctis threw was over and Ignis drove Prompto home, Ignis gave him his gift: a new camera. As he put the parcel in his palm, he took his hand by the wrist and lifted it to his lips to kiss his fingers. “I hope this birthday marks the first of many we share.” He kissed the back of his hand. “Let's make some memories together, love.”

Prompto almost melted then and there, and imploded when he saw the camera. He tore it from its packaging, shouting incoherently about _all these features, Iggy! It's got all these lighting settings!_ It was the nicest gift he'd ever gotten, and he told Ignis as much as he unwrapped it, put the batteries in, and adjusted the settings with preternatural ease, like he'd owned it his whole life. Then, he held the camera out. “You have to be in the first picture on it with me, Iggy!”

Ignis, perplexed and amused, quickly smoothed his hair back. “Right now?”

“Yeah! Our first memory with this camera!” He turned the lens towards them. “Call it a candid. Just you and me, sharing the happy.”

Ignis chuckled indulgently, and leaned in towards Prompto. “Very well. Say when.”

Prompto didn't. “Count of three? Three, two…” He didn't finish counting, but turned and kissed Ignis on the cheek right as he hit the trigger. The surprise on Ignis’ face was captured eternally on the viewfinder, but Prompto lost his aim when Ignis turned on him and kissed him back, square on the mouth. Prompto barely managed to set the camera on the coffee table and out of danger as Ignis pinned him to the cushions with tender kisses, and Prompto wrapped his arms around Ignis’ back and held him close.

Their first makeout stopped when Ignis skimmed his hands down Prompto's chest, only to stutter as he found Prompto’s binder. Prompto’s panic response flooded his mind, and he shoved Ignis’ hands off and scrambled back.

“I’m sorry!” Prompto pulled his knees in tight. “I - I -!”

“Prompto, are you alright?” Ignis reached after him, and Prompto could only gasp and wheeze as their first kiss turned into their first shared panic attack.

Prompto hadn’t realized how much the prospect of taking things further than gentle touches frightened him until he found he couldn’t breathe the moment it became a remotely salient possibility. He knew himself prone to bouts of anxiety and self-doubt - _see_ , his entire childhood - but it had never turned into the full-on panic of knowing something terrible was about to happen.

(That sinking, sick notion, _he’s going to leave, he’s going to hate me, I’m not what he wants_ , the very thought of losing Ignis now felt like someone was about to take something out of his flesh.)

“Prompto? Love? Listen to me. It’s alright.” Ignis had backed away to the opposite end of Prompto’s sofa, and Prompto lifted his gaze just enough to see Ignis opening his arms. “We can take things as slow as you’re comfortable with.”

“B-but - you sh-should know -” Prompto felt like he was choking on his own tongue. “I … I’m not … you know I’m not ... “ He gestured futilely at his chest. “I have -”

“I know, love.”

“B-but you haven’t seen - and I have a - _you know!_ \- and I haven't been with anyone but me before, and if I can’t, or d-don’t -”

“Listen.” Ignis clasped Prompto’s hand again and leaned over to kiss the back of it. “We entered this relationship knowing there would be some exploration needed. I will make clear, I have absolutely no preference for gender, sex, or anything of that sort, and I am happy to help you find what you are most comfortable with. If that ends up being ‘nothing,’ I will accept that, too. Please take a deep breath for me, love.” Prompto sucked in air through his nose, then exhaled, long and slow. “There’s a dear. Can you look at me?” Prompto tipped his chin up, only to see Ignis looking rather tired, but smiling with ease. “There you are. Would you like to sit with me?”

Prompto carefully crawled over towards Ignis, and Ignis exhaled slowly and began to stroke his side. “You’re good at this,” he mumbled, and Ignis laughed through his nose.

“There were some concerns Noct might experience panics or the like, given how introverted and quiet he tends to be. I took a few seminars on crisis resolution, and while I’m a tad rusty, since it turns out he becomes surly rather than anxious, I’m more than willing to apply what I know to help you, love.” He laid a gentle trail of kisses down his cheek. "You're safe here."

Prompto closed his eyes tight against Ignis’ chest. “You really are the best.”

True to his word, Ignis was immeasurably patient with Prompto. Prompto had never been brave enough to bare his soul - or his body - for anyone. However, the next time they were alone, Ignis urged Prompto out of his binder - “I know you’ve been wearing it for hours and hours, you really must loosen it a bit!” - and Prompto steeled himself enough to let Ignis to be the first person who wasn’t a doctor to see Prompto shirtless since he’d matured. Ignis had let his gaze linger for a moment, as if making sure Prompto was aware he had seen, imperfections, stretch marks, breasts, everything, then smiled with mild appreciation. “I didn’t know you had freckles on your chest, too. How precious you are.”

Prompto went shades of pink he didn’t know existed, and if he got any hotter, he would have melted like a scoop of ice cream in a Lestallum heat wave.

When Ignis did try to touch Prompto, it was with the assurance that Prompto could tell him to stop, or even signal him as to how okay any given point of contact was. Prompto was usually fine with an arm around the waist, a thumb hooked in his hip, kisses on his face, a hand on his back. Sometimes, Prompto was less okay with Ignis leaving his hand too close to his breast, but he was getting used to it. If he couldn’t be used to it, he could always tell Ignis, “Maybe not there, right now?” and move his hand down towards his hip, and Ignis wouldn’t complain.

Ignis was schooled so perfectly, never over-eager, never too forward. Prompto knew that he tended to go too far, too fast, but he could always trust Ignis to catch him by the collar. That was how it went the first time one of their more intense makeouts on the sofa, six months after they’d started seeing each other intimately, had Prompto going for Ignis’ belt.

“Wait.” Ignis stayed his hand, thumb pressed into the center of his palm, and Prompto saw Ignis biting his lower lip. “First, let’s do this somewhere a bit more appropriate.” With that, he scooped Prompto out from under him and lifted him over his shoulder, carrying him with surprising ease. Prompto laughed with surprise as Ignis easily deposited him on his bed, and straddled him as he landed. “Is this what you want? Truly?”

“Yeah, never wanted anything more than you.” Prompto traced Ignis’ trim waist, then held him by the hips. “Did you … did you wanna wait?” He swallowed nervously. “Like, ‘til we were married or something? Not that I'm thinking about us getting married yet! ‘Cause, I’ll wait for you forever but I love you, and when we kiss I just - I -” He trailed off, flushing, as Ignis laughed softly into his cupped palm, then rested his hands over Prompto’s.

“I’m not so well-mannered as to be insistent upon restraining myself that long. I told you, I’ve had a few lovers before, and you see neither wedding ring nor alimony procedures hanging off of me.” He carded his fingers through Prompto’s hair. “But if what you’ve told me of your history is true - and do correct me if I’m wrong - you’ve never been intimate with anyone before me.”

Prompto nodded sharply. “Y-yeah, you’ll be my first.” _My only_ , he wanted to add, but that would probably have earned him a reprimand for being too assuming.

“Then let’s take it slowly. I’d like to know what you’re most comfortable with.” Ignis, with lust in his gaze, surveyed Prompto from toe to tip. “After all, once we’ve figured out what you like best, I can take satisfaction in giving it to you in abundance.” He traced his index finger down Prompto’s chest to the waistband of his denims. “One matter of business first - given my knowledge of your physiology, I would be remiss in failing to ask if you use chemical contraception.”

“Chemical contra - birth control? Um.” Prompto blushed, because Ignis had rucked his shirt up to tease the faint trail of hair he had between his navel and groin. “I. Um. Don’t, no. But I’ve never had a cycle! Like, I’ve never, y’know, had a period.”

“Ah. I suppose hormone replacement therapy is a rather efficient form of preventing conception.” Ignis nodded, considering Prompto with a gleam in his eye and his thumb dragging down towards his groin again. “However, for our mutual comfort and reassurance, I would like to use prophylactics if we are going to engage in such relations.”

Prompto was a little far gone for pretty words, but he put together ‘we’re using a condom,’ and nodded. “Whatever you like, Igs.”

“Excellent.” Ignis’ eyes gleamed. “Now, shall we begin finding just what sort of _relations_ you would like best?”

Prompto actually giggled and took both of Ignis’ hands. “Hey, y’know, just ‘cause I’ve never gone all the way with someone else doesn’t mean I haven’t been there for myself.” He grinned and guided Ignis’ hand down. “You want me to give you the grand tour?”

Prompto quickly found out that Ignis could do things to every part of him with his fingers that made him turn crimson the next time he watched Ignis pull his gloves on. Ignis’ tongue and all of its wicked ways had Prompto watching his mouth every time he spoke for three days after that first time. He loved the way Ignis tasted, his skin, his mouth, his _everything_. He loved the way Ignis praised him when he was straddling Ignis’ thighs, mounted on his lap and riding for paradise. Best of all was curling up with his head on Ignis' breast, content in the afterglow and lulled by the cadence of his heartbeat in his ear. Ignis was the kind of lover people could only _dream_ of. He wanted to ask if Ignis had gotten training in _that_ too in case Noctis ever needed pointers, but if he were being honest with himself, he wanted any and all thoughts of Noctis as far away from his bedroom life as possible.

He could think about Noctis when he was training in the yard with Gladio to be part of his Crownsguard, when they were texting discreetly during the day, or when they were chilling together playing video games. He was fine with Gladio now, too, but Ignis was something special. Ignis was the best part of his life, a life that was finally working.

He had an awesome best friend. His awesome best friend had introduced him to his amazing boyfriend. He was a loser pleb, but he was training for Crownsguard. He was _him_ , flaws and all, and despite that, he felt like everything was going better than he could have dreamed when he was a lonely fat boy who hardly even knew who he was, let alone where he belonged. He knew now: he belonged. He belonged with these people, in this place.

It was around the point where Prompto finally started to think that way every day, around the two year anniversary of him and Ignis getting together (which neatly coincided with Noctis’ 20th birthday), that King Regis announced that there would be a summit meeting with Niflheim's premier diplomats to hammer out terms of the treaty, and the same day, he got a fateful call from Noctis:

“Hey, Prompto …” Noctis inhaled on the other end of the line, then sighed. “So, I'm getting married. Wanna come with me on a road trip? As one of my Crownsguard? Specs and Gladio are coming, and if I'm getting married, I want my best friend with me.”

Prompto's squeal in the affirmative was likely audible in Altissia.

Why _wouldn't_ he? His friend was getting married, and even if they weren't in love, Lady Lunafreya was universally known as the sweetest person in Eos. He didn’t love her, but he liked her. She'd be good for Noctis. Besides, it was a wedding, even if it was a political arrangement. What was there to hesitate on?

Prompto worried about ‘what could go wrong' less than he used to. Maybe he should have worried about this.

He picked up his Crownsguard uniform with Ignis, packed a bag with a week of clothes (hotels had laundromats, right?) and three months of medicine (he didn't know how long Noctis would need “guarding” but he wanted to be prepared), and left a voice mail message for his parents letting them know he'd be gone. (They didn't respond.)

Gladio high-fived him at the gate to the Citadel as he arrived. “You ready for some action?” He grinned as he slung a companionable arm around his shoulder. “I tell ya, we got no idea what we might see out there. There's a reason his Highness is sending Noct with three bodyguards! You think we'll have to protect our handsome Prince Charmless from being jumped by scores of jilted admirers distraught at the thought of him getting hitched, or will we just have to fight off Lady Lunafreya from going for the goods before the wedding night?”

Prompto punched him in the shoulder. “C'mon, Noct isn't like that, Lady Lunafreya's an angel, and you're just salty ‘cause we're gonna spend however long it takes to drive to Tenebrae playing King's Knight and you know I can kick your ass from here to Niflheim and back.”

Gladio scoffed, but got quiet as they passed Clarus Amicitia, as foreboding and stern as ever, standing by the door. He eyed the pair of them, then accosted Gladio by seizing his arm.

“Have some dignity, Gladiolus. Remember, you know not what will appear outside these Walls.” He looked between the two, expression unreadable. “Don't do anything foolish.” He then turned his hawkish gaze onto Prompto, and Prompto suddenly felt very much like a rabbit. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Sir.” Prompto saluted, and Gladio did the same, his motions a little sharper than Prompto's. Clarus nodded curtly, then waved them past.

It had been oddly stern. Maybe Prompto should have worried then. However, soon he was meeting Noct, as Ignis waited with the Regalia. King Regis made a point of shaking each of their hands and saying something to each of them. Prompto noticed he patted Ignis’ hand before breaking away, and Ignis bowed. Gladio, upon hearing what the King had to say, nodded and saluted with a fist across his chest. To Prompto, he leaned in and whispered, “Take care of yourself, young man, and never miss a good shot.” Prompto felt his jaw clench inadvertently, but he nodded and bowed.

King Regis had likely said everything he could say to Noctis before seeing them out, so he just gave him a hug. Noctis was stiff for the first few seconds, then sagged against his dad’s chest a little.

Maybe Prompto should have thought that was weird. Maybe he should have worried.

Then, the King waved farewell to them from the steps, his knuckles white where they gripped his cane, and the four of them piled in and set off for the ferry to Altissia. Despite himself,  Prompto luxuriated in the open sun through the convertible cab and the wind in his hair, laughing and joking with Noct, Ignis, and Gladio like this was any other day trip.

Not an hour out of the city, the Regalia broke down. “Six,” Noctis complained as they pushed the car down the open road, “You'd think they'd have given us a car in decent shape! How could they not have known she'd crap out after 50 miles?!”

“Less bitching, more pushing!” Gladio had roared back. Prompto had laughed, then put his back into it.

Maybe he should have worried then.

They found a garage not too far from where they'd broken down, and while Noctis was curious as to how the owner had gotten a caricature, hung up in the convenience shop, drawn with his dad, Prompto was enamored with the service station worker, Cindy. Ignis caught him looking as she bent over the Regalia's side to pop the hood, and shot him an annoyed look.

“She's cute, Igs, I can't help it!” He'd tried to laugh it off. “Plus, she kinda looked right through me. And you're the only one for me anyway.” Ignis had been unimpressed, glasses glinting in the bright light off of the dusty plains.

“Kindly keep that in mind for future encounters with women you favor.”

“It’ll keep Gladio and Noct off our scent, anyway.” Prompto crossed his arms and propped his shoulders against the gas pump. Ignis screwed his face up.

“I suppose. The two of us will be spending much more of what would normally be our alone time together with them.” He subtly shifted closer, his shoulder touching Prompto’s. “I still haven’t formally told them we were together.”

“Me neither.”

“Ah.” Ignis exhaled through his nose, then tilted his head to kiss Prompto on the cheek and murmur, “It may be wise not to bring it up at the moment. Noctis has been rather … touchy when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Yeah.” Prompto bit his lip. “Maybe … once we’re home again, we can have a little party to announce it. Once Noct’s settled in with Lady Lunafreya, and all.”

Ignis’ expression got a bit wistful and misty at that, a small smile twisting his mouth. “I’ll make a cake.”

Prompto got on tiptoes to kiss Ignis on the cheek. “I want strawberries on top, please.”

“Anything for you, love.”

The hunt was a good distraction, and surprisingly fun, but Prompto hadn’t heard about the wildlife being quite this wild. He’d been warned there might be a few monsters trying to stop the car if they take off roads to avoid blockades, but he’d had no idea they were this ferocious. When they approached, Prompto knew what to do; he’d trained with all three of them, and he knew his strategy: keep moving, make sure the others knew where he was firing from, and make his shots count. He kept talking, kept making little jokes, just to make sure the others knew where he was: “It’s like we’re playing King’s Knight for real!” He cackled as he took another shot. “Another one bites the dust! And another one do-” He yelped and dodged a swipe from a sabertusk that hadn’t had the courtesy to alert him as to its location, but Gladio knocked it back with one swing of his greatsword.

“You watch your ass,” Gladio snarled, before running right back towards the pack, “or you’ll die like you do in King’s Knight, for real!”

“No fair!” He got off another round of shots at the sabertusk, enough to stun it so Gladio could take it out. “You know I can take you in King’s Knight any day!”

He hadn’t expected the monsters to be this vicious. This was unreal.

Maybe he should have worried then, but by the time they got Dave back to Hammerhead, he was just so relieved to be heading back towards civilization and the comfort of the Regalia that he didn’t pay it much mind.

No, he could pinpoint when he started to worry: it was when they got to Galdin Quay and were met at the ferry by a man who Prompto could swear was familiar, announcing “The boats bring you here, but they’ll not take you forth,” before babbling some nonsense about wanting to “turn ship” and throwing some sort of commemorative coin at Noctis (which Gladio caught, and thankfully it wasn’t rigged with explosives like they were in an anime or something). Something about him just made Prompto feel icky.

He was gone as soon as he'd come, but the ickiness nagging at him hung around like a pendulous rain cloud.

They split up to investigate, with Ignis and Prompto going to ask at the ticket office and Noctis and Gladio asking around. Prompto let Ignis do the talking, content to watch the afternoon sun reflecting on the water from the edge of the dock. Ignis joined him after a brief conversation. “It seems there's an Imperial blockade, and only rumors as to why. The assumption is that the Empire is ensuring that treaty talks go well.”

“I hope they do. It'd suck if we got Noct to his wedding only to find out it got canceled because someone sneezed at the negotiating table.” Prompto wrinkled his nose. “I hope getting home'll be easier than this.” 

“Home,” Ignis murmured wistfully, considerately. “I wonder what home will be like, after this treaty is put in place.”

“Dunno. I mean, hopefully better?” Prompto leaned into Ignis’ chest, and relaxed in the steady rhythm of his beating heart. “Maybe it can be with you. I'm Crownsguard now, so I'd be allowed to live in the Citadel.”

Ignis hummed, sounding dubious. “I'll be busier than ever. I don't know how you can stand it, to be quite honest.”

“I know how important your job is.” Prompto shrugged. “You don't think I'm selfish for wanting a little of the time you're not with Noct, right?”

That got a smile out of him. “No more so than Noctis is for monopolizing the rest of it. I enjoy my work, but I enjoy your company just as much.” He drew his arm tighter around Prompto's shoulder. “I rather think I'd enjoy sharing a home with you.”

Prompto grinned like a fool at the very thought. “I rather think so, too.” He fished his camera out of his vest pocket. “Souvenir photo?” Ignis chuckled, then slicked his hair back.

“Promise you'll shoot my good side.”

Prompto poured with mock offense. “Never!” He grinned as he turned the camera lens towards them and took the shot, then turned to show the viewfinder to Ignis. “When you're a crack shot like me, there are no bad sides.” The photo appeared on the screen, the pair of them windswept and smiling, drenched in afternoon sun.

“You have a master's touch.” Ignis kissed him high on the cheekbone, then pushed off of the railing as Gladio and Noctis returned. “What news?”

“Same as what that hobo not-chic creep said,” Gladio groused, expression tight, crossing his arms as he reached them. “Seems the ferry’s not leaving. The Niff authorities in charge of the port told ‘em to stop shipping out.”

Prompto grimaced and glanced to the ocean. “So, how’re we gonna-”

“The reporter we talked to, Dino Ghiranze, he said he could arrange for a private boat.” Noctis had his hands stuffed in his pockets and a frown in place. Clearly Prompto wasn’t the only one feeling a little put-off by the situation. “We just need to get him some gem. He knew who I was, so he thought it’d be easy for me to get my hands on.”

“Hmph. It seems a fair enough exchange.” Ignis adjusted his glasses and stepped forward. “Let’s make our move. The sooner we get to Altissia, the better.”

“Yeah,” Prompto added, making to follow but turning back to Noctis. “If they’re gonna keep putting up roadblocks, Luna’s gonna get lonely waiting.”

Noctis hummed uncomfortably, but the four of them set off to find the garnet Dino wanted, and Prompto quivered in the tension like a tuning fork hit with a mallet. Something was definitely amiss, and Prompto couldn’t be sure what.

It wasn’t until after they’d found the gem and gave it to Dino in exchange for a boat the next day, after they’d holed up at a motel for the night, and after Prompto had tossed and turned under the nagging ebb-and-flow internal debate of “maybe something’s wrong - _no it isn’t, shut up!_ ” running through his mind the whole night that Prompto actually started to worry.

He woke, too early in the orange glow of sunrise, and found Ignis waiting on the balcony of the room with Gladio, the pair of them staring down into a newspaper. Gladio’s eyes were wide and his jaw had gone slack, and Ignis knuckles were surely white through his gloves. Prompto looked between them, unease building like a snowball in his throat, until Ignis noticed he was there. “Prompto, kindly go rouse Noctis.”

There was a stiffness in his voice, under his usual measured tones, that sent a chill through Prompto, and he hurried back into the room to wake Noctis up. Noctis groaned and tossed until Prompto opened the blinds to what had become white light off of the ocean, before rolling out of bed, still dressed after falling asleep in his clothes the night before. “What’s the big idea?” He looked around at the other empty beds. “Where’s Gladio and Specs?”

“Um, hey, good morning -” Before Prompto could answer Noctis’ actual question, Ignis entered as if he’d sensed Noctis waking up, Gladio behind him. Noctis frowned, as if he could sense Ignis’ uncharacteristic tension too.

“Hey, what’s that look for-”

“It’s in all the papers.” Ignis held the newspaper out towards Noctis. “I checked.”

Noctis ran his eyes over the headline, and his eyes went wide. Prompto leaned over and read it aloud “ _Insomnia… Falls?_ ”

Noctis whipped around on Ignis. “Is this your idea of a joke?!”

Ignis held his hands up before him as Noctis strode towards him. “I need you to calm down so I can explain-”

“I’m as calm as I’m gonna get!”

Noctis was chest to chest with Ignis now, as Prompto silently tried not to choke on his own breath in his panic,  _Insomnia's gone, Insomnia's gone, home is gone._  He was hardly able to even listen as Ignis tried to explain, “There was an attack. The Empire has taken the Crown City…”

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, as Gladio dully, stoically read the article, describing the breakdown of negotiations, the fight in the treaty room, and the raid on the city. Noctis’ protests .

Noct’s dad - the _King_ \- was dead. His Shield likely met the same fate. They had no home to go to. The wedding in Altissia? A distraction, at best. Prompto wasn’t a politician, he didn’t think about things like that, but there were a few stark realities. Everything he’d thought was officially _wasn’t_ . All that was in his mind was _“Oh, Six, what happens now?”_

“Lies,” Noctis breathed, before sinking into one of the chairs and putting his head in his hands.

“If only,” Prompto whispered back, but nobody seemed to hear him.

They quickly agreed, they needed to go back to Insomnia to assess the situation. Gladio, gaze unfocused and half-dissociated, protested for a second, “It might not be safe for us there,” but Prompto already knew:

“It might not be safe for us here!”

Gladio had inflamed with fury for a second, fire in his cheeks and eyes, and Prompto fell back a little like a dog who’d gotten his neck nipped. However, Noctis, swallowing emotion every second, said he wanted to go back to see the city, and they divided up to pack.

Prompto dodged into the bathroom with his cell phone first. First, he called his parents. The line didn’t even ring before he got his answer: _“The number you have dialed has been disconnected.”_ They’d probably gone home the second they got his message that he’d left it. He didn’t want to know what that home looked like now.

Then, he tried his old doctor. _“The number you have dialed has been disconnected.”_

He’d been planning to get her to refill his medicine from the road. That wasn’t happening.

Prompto swallowed a few times to assess what this meant for him. He had nowhere to return to, his money was no better now than it had been at Hammerhead, and that newspaper article had suggested Noctis was dead, too. Oh, Noctis was alive, Noctis was alive and trying not to break down at the horror of his father’s death, and Gladio was alive and clearly trying to process this and failing because he had a sister and a family and a home and no way of knowing what had become of them, and Ignis was alive and clearly caught flat-footed by all of this but had to deal with this one way or another, and they all very likely had huge targets on their backs, if not bounties for their heads. But he was …

_A pleb. A nobody. The Empire didn’t give a damn about him any more than his own parents had._

He could have run and started a new life but he smothered that thought in its crib. He would never, never, _never_ abandon Noctis unless someone chained him down while Noctis was dragged away. Noct needed him, now more than ever. He would protect him for whatever that was worth. However, he had needs too and he was going to have to look out for them, because nobody else was going to take care of him now.

He would clean his own gun. He would keep himself alive. He would follow every order. If he panicked, he would shut himself down. And when it came to himself, he would do what he had to.

Prompto looked in his medicine bag. Three little bottles of his T. Three months’ worth. Yeah, there was no chance that would last however long it took for things to settle, for him to either get in touch with his old doctor or find a new one. He swallowed as he assessed it, checking the mirror. He was mostly okay, right? His dose had already been pretty low, what difference would a little lower make? He could stretch it out, just a little, and it probably wouldn’t make him lose too much of who he was.

Besides, _he_ didn’t matter all that much right now.

He took one of the needles from the storage in the Armiger, loaded it with half the dose, cleaned a patch on his arm and gave himself the injection, same as he had done for years. Maybe his face would get a little softer, his facial hair might get a tiny bit thinner, but that was probably the worst of it.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told himself, and he knew he was lying. Even so, this was the safest option he thought he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be taking a few liberties with the game's timeline from here on out, since it's never made precisely clear how long they're on the road and with sidequests and level-grinding, it could be as long as it needs to be, so bear with me!
> 
> I am on [Tumblr](http://ezra-blue.tumblr.com) if anyone's interested. I'm down to answer questions anytime!
> 
> Also, if there are any questions, _yes,_ that was a Jojo's reference.


	4. Hope, or Something Like It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first few weeks on the road are not easy, and Prompto's struggling on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter, but leaving this one shorter improves the flow of the story, I think. This chapter also does include some mention of Prompto and Ignis' sexual relationship, but I decided not to get too explicit. 
> 
> Thank you all for your patience!

**4: Hope, or Something Like It**

The two weeks since the fall of Insomnia had been nothing short of madness. They had managed to travel back to Insomnia, or what was left of it, dodging Imperial troops, roadblocks, and massive swaths of refugees fleeing in the opposite direction. They managed to find a good overlook, one that wasn’t too heavily guarded (nothing but a few stray MTs, and Noct handled those easily enough) and crept their way close enough to see.

The Wall, with its faint crystalline glow, was gone. The sky was stark and clear, and the Wall was just. Fucking. Gone. So was about one-third of the city, but then, Prompto had never been much for numbers or math, nor cardinal directions, so he couldn't say how much each quadrant of the city was up in smoke. It was enough. It was too much. He couldn’t even begin to guess where his little house on the outskirts of the city had been. He wondered if it was under that Imperial ship. Or that one. Or that one.

Six, this was hopeless. Prompto thought he might actually cry. He didn’t, but he had to turn around while the others were muttering about the state of things to suck it up hard, to bite his lip and clench his fists until he could tamp it down.

Then, they got the call from Marshal Cor Leonis, and had to creep their way west to a Hunter's Outpost near the Insomnia checkpoint where some of the rest of the Guard had made base. Prompto had met Marshal Leonis a few times - he was his boss, however distantly, given that Prompto was just an entry-level grunt in the Guard (only here because Noctis invited him personally) - but as Cor was greeting each of them, he halted at Prompto. He stared him down, then gripped his chin and tilted his face left and right, then let him go, lip curled.

“Is that how it is?” He'd muttered, shaking his head, but before he could elaborate, he turned back towards Noctis and Gladio. Prompto realized he was shaking. Had the Marshall seen something wrong with him? Or did he just not like the look of him to begin with?

Maybe it was the lack of stubble that caught his eye. A week of rough living even had Ignis a little fuzzy on the chin. Prompto had never managed much more than a patchy goatee, and without his testosterone, even that wasn't coming in. Either way, Prompto kept his mouth shut and crossed his fingers the Marshal would too.

He did. Marshal Leonis was much more interested in guiding them to an old tomb, telling Noctis about the Royal Arms of his ancestors, and encouraging him to seek out as many as he could find: “You'll need them if you're to take back the Crystal.”

Those words gave all of them something they needed: hope. Hope that something could be done, that all wasn't lost, that maybe they could - Noctis could, with their help - retake Lucis, take back Insomnia, the crystal, their home. It was something they could do, or at least something they could help Noctis do. It was _something_ , and Prompto had desperately needed a bright spot. He was sure he wasn't alone in that, but nobody asked him and nobody else said anything, so he celebrated quietly with the others, but otherwise kept his mouth shut as tight as he could. This wasn't about _his_ feelings, after all.

Who cared if his heart ached every time he caught Noct sulking? That he flinched back from all of Gladio’s too-sharp, too-tense movements? That the most he’d gotten Ignis to notice him at all was when he was passing him another can of coffee? Nope. They needed to save the world. There was an evil empire to take down, and despite his misgivings, Prompto was ready and willing to stand at Noct’s side on that mission. The only time he felt connected with the others now was when he was behind them, whistling and humming to keep their ears on him, watching their backs and taking every shot he could get. There was no thrill greater than Noct calling him in for an assist, blindsiding the enemy with a few well-placed shots and letting Noct come in for the finish. Then, he was alone again. 

Cor sent them off on their own again once they'd secured the first Royal Arm and once he'd seen them in action and determined that he was satisfied, promising to get in touch if he had any good information about Royal Arms, or anything that might help them. They set off for Lestallum after getting a call from Gladio's baby sister, Iris, letting him know she'd survived, as had some of his family's house staff. Gladio's relief had been palpable, but he had to see her.

Prompto has met Iris a few times before, and as ever, she was sweet. She was especially sweet on Noctis, but Prompto couldn’t begrudge her that. He knew exactly what it was like to be sixteen and to have an enormous crush on someone who seemed completely unattainable. Noctis got dragged off to take a tour of Lestallum with Iris, Gladio went to catch up with Jared, the Amicitia’s steward, and Talcott, his cute grandson, Ignis went to do laundry and get ingredients for an evening meal and Prompto … Prompto got to _rest_.

Collapsing into a bed had never felt so good. The Leville was nothing like home, but it was the closest Prompto thought he was going to get for a long, long time. Plus, he was finally apart from the others, not crammed into the tent like sardines in sleeping bags, or the caravan where he always seemed to end up bedding down with Noct or Gladio. He’d been restless in the car, and it was getting hard for him to stay cheerful and optimistic when he had to try and joke back at every dour observation, when he had to keep talking, keep whistling, keep their ears on him when they couldn’t see him. He spent the little bit of pocket money Ignis spared for him on cans of Ebony just so he always had one to give him, he made sure to have some wild ‘remember the good old days?’ story to recount over the fire, he took up as little space as possible in the tent and, when it counted, in the others’ minds. It had been two weeks and he was tired.

“I kinda hate this,” he said, just to hear it once. Then, he banished the thought. This was going to be exhausting - they were still effectively living Hunt to Hunt and would be for the foreseeable future, and while they could stay at the Leville here a day or two, maybe, they had to keep moving, or risk the Empire catching wind of them, and then down came the drop ships and the MTs and a whole lot of hoping he didn't die this time. However, he wouldn't trade being with his friends for the world, and really, it was kind of a cool adventure, right? “Right,” he told himself, then curled up, making himself as small as he could on the big comfy bed.

He was barely aware that the door had shut in the merciful reverie of the first comfortable rest he'd had in days, so when a hand touched his leg, he jerked around like an electrocuted centipede and twisted around in a panic, only to find Ignis standing over him, dropping the laundry basket in surprise. Prompto had to catch his breath, as Ignis straightened his shirt and picked the laundry up.

“Apologies. It was not my intention to give you a fright.” Ignis furrowed his brow, then took a step back. Prompto's heart dropped like a stone, and he sat up.

“No, don't go! You surprised me, that's all!” He managed a shaky laugh as Ignis set the laundry on the armchair, and gestured wildly as he rambled. “I mean, come on, we are kind of fugitives, I should be watching my own back a little closer!” Ignis was staring at Prompto like he was a bowl of salsa with a goldfish swimming in it, completely incomprehensible, and Prompto waved his hands, desperate for a laugh, a smile, _anything_. “Like, like, there goes Prompto, dead and dust ‘cause he took a nap! Ha, wouldn’t that be something that could only happen to me, right? But you! You're safe! So don't go.” Now he sounded desperate. Shit. Ignis pursued his lips, then spread a hand on the sheets beside Prompto.

“May I sit with you?”

Prompto scooted to make room, and Ignis gracefully lowered himself to sit beside him, then laid an arm around his shoulders. Prompto shivered as they made contact - how long had it been since Ignis had touched him? Too long! - but he leaned into his arm and tried to put his head on his shoulder. Ignis sighed. “I've been exhausted and tense myself. I shouldn't have disturbed you.”

“Nah, it's okay. How are you holding up?”

Ignis deflated a little against Prompto. “Quite frankly, not well. Trying to keep tabs on everyone and everything, making sure our needs are met even in these difficult conditions, it's a constant struggle against many beasts. And that's when we're not actively struggling against beasts. I have to keep all of you alive.”

“Sorry.” Prompto grimaced. “I'm not trying to make all this harder for ya. Really.”

“Of course not, no.” Ignis groaned and slumped against Prompto. “I'm not complaining; I must keep myself alive, as well. I only mean to say this journey hasn't been easy, and I doubt it will get any easier.”

“You don't have to tell me twice.” Prompto put his arm around Ignis’ waist and held him close. His skin was so warm, so smooth, he felt so good, and Prompto needed the closeness as much as Ignis clearly needed the same. “I'm right there with ya. Whatever it is Noct has to do, I'm right there with him ‘til the bitter end.”

“I hope it's not so bitter,” Ignis murmured into Prompto's hair, and leaned against him. “Even if your smile is the only light I have some days.”

Prompto found himself smiling against Ignis’ neck. “I'll do my best to try and lighten stuff up for ya. It's all I'm really good for.”

That caught Ignis up short, his hands faintly jerking against Prompto's waist and shoulder. He leaned back to look Prompto in the eye. “You can't mean that, love. You're more valuable than you can know.” He slid his fingers across Prompto's brow to move the hair from his eyes. “Tell me you don't mean that.” Prompto's jaw went slack, and he didn't answer fast enough to assuage ignis before a curious, sad look crossed Ignis’ face. “I've neglected you, haven't I?”

“No, Igs, no way!” Prompto’s pulse skyrocketed, and he flailed in protest. “Just, you got so much more important stuff happening! You don't have to worry about me! None of you should! Hell, half the time I wonder if I'm not in the way more than anything-”

“No.” Ignis gripped his hands emphatically, squeezing tight as if he could impress the denial into Prompto's mind. “Just because we are otherwise preoccupied with our mission does not mean we must put our care for one another aside. I should have kept you closer, reassured you - are you alright, love?”

Prompto’s eyes had gotten hot. He sucked back emotions and shook his head. “M'fine, Iggy, really. Yeah, home's gone, but my home is with you guys, and my parents … I mean, if they're not dead they sure haven't tried to find out whether or not I am, and I'm probably gonna die out here, but if I die taking a hit for Noct, at least I did my job, right?”

Ignis squeezed Prompto’s hands again. “No, no, no. Stay alive. All of us, we need to live to fight another day, you are much better alive than - come here.” Ignis pulled Prompto in towards his chest, stroking down his back, and Prompto shivered.

“Iggy - It’s not like I wanna -”

“I should hope not.” Ignis kissed his cheek, and Prompto finally surrendered to the hug. “I’m sorry we’ve not had time to share. I’m sorry I haven’t done more to ensure you were handling our situation well. Is there anything I can do to help ease your spirit?”

Prompto winced and bowed his head into Ignis’ chest. “I can’t ask you,” he mumbled. “You do too much already.”

“I miss your smile, love.” Ignis ran his palm down Prompto’s back. “That big, bright one that feels like sunshine, not the faint flashes through the clouds. How can I see that smile again?”

Prompto inhaled, taking in the faint scent of Ignis’ soap, his cologne, his natural scent, and crawled into Ignis’ lap. “Just hold me a little bit, okay?”

Ignis ran his fingers down Prompto’s back a few times, then his full palm. Just his touch made him feel warm and satiated, but the longer he held him, the slower Prompto’s heart beat, until it began to speed up, and Prompto felt heat coil in his belly as Ignis’ ministrations came a little firmer. Every stroke down his back now made him a canvas, coloring in an image of hunger, of want, of love. Prompto wanted that touch on his bare skin, he wanted Ignis to paint him all the shades of his affection. He wanted Ignis closer, closer, he wanted Ignis in the same space as him. His body moved almost without his say-so, shifting until his legs straddled Ignis’ waist, and he realized he wasn’t the only one who was feeling more than gentle affection.

“Oh.” Prompto grinned with mischief and slid his hips against the join of Ignis’ legs. “You did miss me, huh?”

Ignis had the grace to turn his eyes aside and glibly replied, “You can’t blame a fellow. I’ve missed your embrace.” He kissed down Prompto’s neck. “If … if you like …  the others will be gone a bit longer.”

“Iggy.” Prompto found himself blushing as Ignis curled his fingers around his waist. "It's you. You don't have to ask." He shrugged his vest off, then peeled off his tank. Ignis made quick work of his jacket, folding it with crisp snaps at the seams and setting it on the bedside table. He unbuttoned his shirt with a few nimble flicks of his fingers, and Prompto felt his heart race as he pulled the gloves off with his teeth. Prompto keened and made to pull off his pants - hell, even he didn’t know just how much he’d missed this until it was right in front of him - but all of a sudden, Ignis stopped with his finger on the button of his slacks.

“Drat,” he whispered, brow coming to a deep furrow. Prompto halted in the middle of kicking his skinny jeans off to shoot Ignis a quizzical look. “We're without protection.”

“Yeah, he’s out with Jared, it’s cool, we’ll be safe enough.”

“That’s not at all what I meant.” Ignis wrought his face into a sorrowful mask as he reached for his shirt, but Prompto reached out, laced his fingers with Ignis’, and stopped him.

“Hey, I was trying to make a joke, but I’m serious.” Somewhere in his mind, Prompto knew this was a bad decision, but the rest of his mind just wanted Ignis to get back to touching him. “We’re only ever with each other, right? I know you’d never give me anything. It’s okay.”

Ignis visibly struggled with himself, gaze darting over Prompto’s face and flicking down over him, mouth taut and throat working. “Beloved, I-”

“Please, Iggy. I …” He swallowed hard and squeezed Ignis' hand then brought it to his lips. “I really, really need to feel close to you, right now.”

Ignis capitulated, and continued to work himself loose of his slacks.

Of all of the parts of his world that had changed and were gone, Ignis was at least constant, consistent. Consistently perfect. His soft words as he touched Prompto, his gentle hands, his cautious motions. Perfect. He handled Prompto like one would glass, and Prompto fell around Ignis like a blanket and chanted his name like an invocation, calling down some unknowable god.

“Yes, love, yes,” Ignis coaxed him, holding his hips and bracing him tight, and Prompto cried and invoked his name again, pleading, begging, praying. Ignis hushed him, then stilled against him. Prompto held him in close, feeling his heat like fire and soaring in ecstasy. Ignis was heaving for breath against Prompto's shoulder, but he had the presence of mind to dust his knuckles down Prompto's cheek. “Are you with me, love?”

Prompto broke from his bliss to smile at him. “Y … yeah. I'm here.”

They lay together for a while, dressing slowly. “I never realized that you were prone to touch-starvation,” Ignis remarked offhandedly, not looking up from buttoning his shirt. “I’ll have to take measures to ensure your well-being.” Prompto winced at the implication that he was just another task on Ignis’ to-do list, until he added, “I also didn't realize how badly I needed you until I had you. However was I functioning with all the tension I was carrying?” He slid his hand over Prompto’s. “We need each other, now more than ever.”

Prompto swallowed hard and squeezed Ignis’ hand. “Y-yeah.”

“I promise I’ll make more time for you, my love. For both of our sakes.” He kissed across Prompto's brow and rubbed noses with him. “If there is to be hope, we all have to stick together.”

“I know. I sure as hell won't make it alone out here.” Prompto slung his arms around Ignis shoulders, dropping against him. Ignis chuckled but lowered down against him again.

“You'd be fine, but I'd lose my mind.” He gave Prompto another kiss over his lips, then eased him down to the bed. “Rest. I'm going to open a window and prepare a proper dinner.”

Prompto hummed contentedly and rolled over into the pillow, breathing deep Ignis’ scent where it lingered in the linens. He had missed it, missed him, missed everything about him. He was soothed by the sound of Ignis nearby, chopping up carrots at a steady tempo, pausing only to glance around at Prompto.

“All's well, love?"

“Mmhm.” Prompto inhaled again, filling up his chest with that scent memory, and resting his soul in the reassurance that they had each other. There was still a lot missing, but he had this much, and it was good.

It got better when Prompto's nap was interrupted half an hour later by the impact of another body next to his. Noctis groaned as his head hit the pillow. “Real bed. Feels good.”

“Mmm, I dunno, there's probably better. I wouldn't _rest_ on my laurels, anyway.” Prompto grinned, and he felt Noctis' back shake as he tried not to chuckle.

“Hey, man, I wouldn't _nap_ on an opportunity for an actual mattress.”

“Holy _sheet_ , dude. That was hardly even a pun.”

“Call that one _fluff_ , then, I'm getting to the good stuff.”

“If I may,” Ignis interrupted, and without lifting his face from the pillow, Prompto could hear him smirking, “We should take what _comforters_ we can while we may, lest we be _down_ ed before we get the opportunity.”

Prompto and Noctis groaned, but they were still laughing despite themselves. Prompto sat up to see Noctis sprawled next to him, looking exhausted but at ease for the first time in weeks. “How was Lestallum, dude?”

“Hot, but there's some good sight-seeing. It was nice to see Iris again, too.” He kicked his legs out, spreading his toes. “But this is even nicer. Seriously.”

“The comfort of having a roof overhead,” Prompto agreed. “It's paradise after camping and caravans. I know it's more economical and we're kinda broke, but I like this.”

“You're damn right.” Noctis bumped his shoulder against Prompto's and sighed. “Hey, man, have you been okay? You've seemed really tense, and you keep making this difficult face.”

Prompto locked up a little, then glanced over to Ignis, who seemed thoroughly engrossed in peeling tarragon leaves from a stalk. “I'm … um … I'm okay. Just stressed, like everyone else is right now, I guess.”

“You're telling me.” Noctis scoffed, but nudged Prompto with his elbow. “I'm just glad you're with me. Thanks, dude.” Then, he got his mobile out. “Hey, how about some King's Knight PVE? It'll be nice to wreck some monsters without having to worry about getting wrecked back.”

Prompto knew Noct's magic had nothing to do with the Crystal, those words were nothing short of electric. “You know it!” He whipped out his phone and loaded the game up, just as Gladio barged in.

“Okay, so now Jared's not around to scold me, I'd like to thank the fucking Astrals for not killing my baby sister!” Then, he crashed onto the open bed with a behemoth-like groan. Ignis tutted something about taking the gods’ names in vain, but Noctis whistled and wagged his phone as Gladio rolled over to look at him bleakly.

“King's Knight?”

“Hell yeah.” Gladio grabbed his phone out and sprawled out on the opposite bed. “Like old times.”

“Some things never change,” Ignis chuckled lightly from the stove.

“Some things don't have to.” Noctis shrugged, and Prompto was just happy to see that his friends’ smiles were some of those things. 

Maybe things had changed for the worse, and things probably would keep changing, but Prompto had hope that maybe they could change them for the better, and maybe the important things wouldn't change at all.

(He would never get tired of being wrong, though.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompto is King of Bad Decisions in this story, folks. (But we love him anyway.)
> 
> Please let me know what you thought! (or if there are any questions you'd like me to address!)


	5. Ill Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between hunts and the grind of surviving on the run, Prompto has begun to notice something - other than everything he already knew was wrong - isn't quite right.

**5: Ill Stars**

First, it was the chilly cave. Talcott had heard a legend about a sword hidden in a cave behind a waterfall, so into the chilly cave they went. Prompto was not a fan of the chilly cave, not in his sleeveless vest. Luckily, Noctis was at least complaining alongside him, and once they’d gotten the Royal Arm hidden at the bottom, Ignis put his jacket around Prompto’s shoulders. It wasn’t easy, but they had their share of fun. Fighting was sort of getting to be a rush now, and Prompto loved getting a chance to prove his worth to the others by making his shots count.

Plus, he got to wear Ignis’ jacket. Whole trip, worth it.

He thought he caught Gladio teasing Ignis under his breath at the back of the pack, but Ignis graciously ignored him. Prompto just kept joking with Noct and enjoying the scent of Ignis’ soap and cologne. Despite the cold and how much it sucked to get cut up and watch his skin get knit back together when Noctis poured a potion over it, Prompto actually thought this was sort of fun.

Then, Cor called them about an outpost, and _oh,_ that was good. Prompto had to hang back with Gladio and Ignis and a few of the other Guards, but he could see Noct warping his way through. He silently cheered him on, pumping his fist and scream-whispering encouragement from their vantage point, until the Marshal gave them the high sign and they rushed in to do the mop-up.

They got to fight a robot. Like an honest-to-Bahamut _mech_ . This would have been the best day ever if Prompto didn’t manage to twist both ankles, one while trying to avoid the saw blades and the other when he tripped while trying to snap a selfie with the mech (because seriously, it was a  _mech!_ ). He had to actually _drink_ a potion just to get back up once (and Noct’s magic tasted like copper and electricity that singed his throat all the way down). Prompto did get to take apart the mech after that Loqi creep had been dealt with and swiped some of the guns and the badass saw blades. Gladio scoffed as the Guard members who’d helped them celebrated with Cor, and as Prompto went through the spoils:

“What’re you doing with all that Niff junk? How about you work on getting better with the peashooter you got?”

Prompto tried to laugh that off, as Ignis turned to argue in his usual measured way, “Any tool we can use to give ourselves an advantage is worth at least a cursory examination.”

Gladio sneered, turning on Ignis with his shoulders back. “Don’t baby him, he needs to work on his aim. What, you think it takes a Niff to beat a Niff? Forget that, we have good Lucian weapons -”

“Quite honestly, look at your _good Lucian weapon_ next time you draw it.” As if challenged, Gladio swung his arm out, summoning his greatsword, holding Ignis’ gaze. Ignis didn’t even falter, but he ran his finger along the edge. Prompto was about to shout a warning, except he knew Ignis was smarter than that, and Ignis turned his index finger towards Gladio to show him the pad was bloodless. “It’s chipped and dulled. I’m concerned that your wit isn’t the only thing that’s not quite sharp enough.”

“Hey!”

“Enough,” Noctis grumbled, rubbing his head as he approached. Prompto noticed and winced.

“You good, man?”

“Man, you warp all over the place like that trying to find the right side of a thing like that mech, see how your equilibrium feels.” Noctis crossed his arms, shook his head, and got steady. “Keep working on getting that stuff off of that thing. If the Niffs get good weapons, so should we. Ignis, are you making some sort of suggestion, or are you just needling Gladio because he was being an ass to Prompto for no good reason?”

Ignis narrowed his eyes. “Am I permitted to answer ‘both?’”

“Playing favorites again,” Gladio groused. Ignis seemed to ignore him, but Prompto had a feeling he’d heard and would not forget.

“I was intending to suggest we make an effort to upgrade our equipment.” Ignis summoned his own daggers and ran his thumb across the edge. “My own weapons were becoming dulled striking at that machine as well. If we’re to keep facing creations of this caliber, we need to be better prepared. I suggest we take some hunts, save some money, and purchase new equipments, and perhaps even some form of armor.”

Noctis furrowed his brow, then summoned the Engine blade and took a look at it. “Yeah. Not a bad idea. I’ll tell Cor to get in touch with us if he comes across any more good info.”

And with that, they were off on a tear through the hills and valleys around Leide and Duscae, even doubling back towards Hammerhead a few times, taking hunts and saving funds. Ignis made a point of marking where the Imperial blockades were, which roads could be used and which could be avoided, and marked out Hunters’ havens. A few days after they took out the base, though, a new threat started to spring up in the form of MT dropships tracking their car and sending down a wave of Imperial MT soldiers. Gladio called it “practice for the real thing.”

“After all,” he reasoned as he mopped the oily gunk that they leaked from his face and hair, “there'll be plenty more of these when we take back Insomnia.” If it were just a matter of wiping out an army of MTs, Prompto would have been fine marching right back in himself, but it wasn't, so even he took a little satisfaction in putting his boot through the next hollow helmet he came across.

There was a rhythm to it, something Prompto could get used to. They’d venture out from whatever camp they'd made, have a cup of strong coffee, they'd fight, they’d turn in the spoils, they’d rest. It was easier not to think about anything else, about home, about the war. They enjoyed what few things they could. Noctis went fishing sometimes. Ignis would cook with the ingredients they found in the wild and the supplies they could get at outposts, and Prompto would help when Ignis let him, or at least set the table. He and Noct would kick back by the fire and play King’s Knight when they could keep their phones charged. Prompto tried to take pictures as they went, like it was just another road trip and not living off the radar to avoid being taken captive, and at night, he'd scroll through them and think about how he might actually have fond memories of this someday. Sometimes, Gladio would wake Prompto up a little early and they’d go for a jog as the sun was rising. Sometimes, Gladio would wake Noctis up a little early and make him go train, and Prompto would crawl to Ignis and cuddle with him.

Prompto actually almost got comfortable with it. He got used to the world that had gone wrong, and the new normal.

Then, something changed, and he began to get the bad feeling that something _new_ was wrong.

* * *

In retrospect, the coffee was the first clue.

It was some nondescript morning about six weeks after they'd left Lestallum, and Prompto woke up feeling groggier than usual. He chalked it up to one too many nights in the sleeping bag. Then, when he crawled out of the tent and smelled the coffee brewing on the camp stove, his head hurt and his stomach twisted up into knots. It only got worse when Ignis poured him a cup, and he recoiled at the smell. Ignis pursed his lips.

“Is something the matter?”

Prompto jerked his head up and down in a nod. “The coffee smells awful.”

Ignis looked offended now, scrutinizing the mug for himself. “It's the same we usually use, and the water is clean, I assure you.”

“I dunno, it smells normal, but it's… bad, today.” Prompto grimaced. “My stomach feels sour. Maybe I picked up a bug.”

Ignis’ brow raised with concern now, and he set the coffee aside and touched Prompto's forehead with the back of his palm. “You do feel warm.” He smoothed his hair back and kissed his forehead. “I'll make you tea instead.”

In minutes, Ignis had brewed him a weak cup of earl grey. It didn't give Prompto the same caffeine kick, but it didn’t have a stench that turned his stomach.

The coffee smell kept making him nauseous every morning, or every time Ignis cracked a can of Ebony. Prompto dreaded the thought that he might gag at one of Ignis’ coffee-scented kisses, and started holding his breath. Maybe, he reasoned with himself, he'd just had too much coffee lately. He needed to lay off until he could stand it again.

The second clue was breakfast, about a week after the coffee aversion set in. Ignis had made a fantastic breakfast. The eggs were soft-scrambled, the sausage was browned on the outside, tender on the inside, and the toast was just crisp enough. Amazing, for someone working on a camp table and a flame; a good, hearty breakfast rivaling any diner.

Prompto’s appetite was DOA from the moment he woke up, and couldn't even be revived by the savory aroma of a perfect breakfast. He could barely convince himself to get half of it down because his stomach started turning again at the very thought of eating. Ignis gave him a sideways look when he gave his plate back unfinished.

“My stomach's not right,” he mumbled in explanation, and Ignis frowned.

“Worse than the other day?”

“Mhm.” He grimaced. “I'm just gonna sit for a little.” He curled up in the camp chair, breathing through his nose and wondering if this could get any worse.

It did. Not ten minutes later, while Noctis and Gladio were still doing their morning training and Ignis was doing the washing up, breakfast came back. Prompto felt it coming and tried to hold it down, but it lurched into his throat all at once and he had to bolt back to the caravan, fumbled the door, and ended up puking against the side wall. Ignis rushed after him, halting behind him just as his gag reflex completely failed and he doubled over. Helpless to do anything else, Ignis rubbed his back and muttered meaningless little comfort words as everything came back up. “There, there. Better out than in.” Prompto disagreed. He'd wanted that breakfast.

When Prompto thought he was done, throat still burning, Ignis had a bottle of water ready, but when Prompto took a sip, it just triggered his gag reflex again and he dry-heaved for another five minutes. He heard Gladio talking somewhere nearby, but couldn’t hear him with the blood rushing in his ears. Ignis spoke to him again as he pushed the bottle back into his hand. “Small sips, take small sips.” Prompto obeyed, finally managing to swish and rinse his mouth, then swallowed some. When he looked up, it was to see all of the others staring at him, Gladio with scrutiny, Noctis unreadable but unhappy, and Ignis with concern. “Is something wrong? Are you feeling alright?”

“Y-yeah.” Prompto tried to step between the mess and the others, as if he could pretend it hadn’t happened. Gladio scoffed, and Noctis crossed his arms.

“You don’t have to lie.”

“M’not. Actually, I feel a lot better.” Prompto took a deep breath, then washed his mouth out again. Ignis hummed, but if he had any other thoughts, he didn’t voice them.

“Let’s give you something light on the system and rehydrate you properly. Hopefully it’s just a minor bug. We have been living rather rough.”

Prompto was fine with a cup of weak tea and some plain toast with mashed banana on it. No complaints whatsoever. He was fine now. It was just a bug, he told himself, it’d go away. He really did feel fine for most of the rest of the day, outside of the usual. His stomach felt a little uneasy whenever he tried to eat or drink, but he didn’t get sick again. He made it through the daily hunt just fine, helping to take down three more of the Spiracorns they needed for the bounty, but when he got back to the car, exhaustion hit him like a crashing wave. He was sore and sleepy, and his head started to throb. He groaned and took his vest off to cover his face and block the light.

“That was bad. Wake me up when everything stops sucking.”

Gladio reached back from the front seat and yanked his elbow. “Quit whining, today wasn’t that bad.” He looked to Noctis. “What say we try and track down that last one?”

“I’m game if all of you are.” Noctis nudged Prompto’s knee with his hand. “Hey, are you okay? Still not right from earlier?”

“Nn. I’m okay.” Prompto could tell his voice was scratchy and muffled through his vest. “Lemme just drink some water, I think I’m dehydrated.”

Ignis hummed with concern but passed Prompto a bottle, then put the car into drive. “If you do need to ease up, say the word.”

Gladio scoffed and muttered something about ‘can’t keep dragging our asses,’ but Prompto shook his head and stuffed the water bottle under his vest to drink it without exposing his eyes to the light. “I’m fine. Gimme a minute, and I’ll be fine.”

The headache lasted the whole afternoon, even as they dealt with the last Spiracorn, and _that_ encounter made the soreness in his arms and chest even worse. When they went to the Kenny Crow’s to turn in the horns to the tipster who’d sent them out into the wilds to track them down, he dodged into the bathroom to loosen his binder. “Idiot,” he told himself, “sports bra next time you gotta do actual athletics,” but with the Velcro a little looser, the ache lessened. A little. His head still ached and he was getting dizzy, but that was a small relief. He staggered back to rejoin the others and collapsed onto the bench next to Gladio, across from Ignis. Ignis immediately adjusted his glasses and examined him.

“Are you feeling any better?”

Prompto made himself smile. “Sure, way better.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow, clearly less than amused and definitely not believing him. “Compared to this morning?”

Lying to Ignis was pointless. “Compared to five minutes ago.” Gladio made a face, then scrutinized Prompto over his sandwich.

“Guess a good piss can help anything.” Then, he punched Prompto’s shoulder. “Or did you just really need to take a dump?”

Prompto’s stomach turned, both because Gladio was talking with his mouth full and his stomach was still touchy, and he realized he hadn’t actually done the latter in two days. He was already making a list of stuff to pick up next time they got to a convenience store, and laxatives just made the list. For now, he just flapped a hand at Gladio. “Shut up.”

“Some of us are trying to eat,” Ignis reminded Gladio sharply, then looked to Prompto. “You should, as well. I ordered you a salad and plainly cooked salmon.”

Gladio rolled his eyes at Ignis, as Noctis stuck his tongue out. Prompto, however, was warmed over with gratitude. “You’re the best, Iggy.” Ignis smiled despite his weariness and carded his fingers into Prompto’s hair just long enough to smooth it back, then tipped his head up to look into his eyes.

“I’m concerned, is what I am. Your eyes are glassy, and you've been having some unusual complaints." Prompto's stomach sank like a stone, but Ignis didn't notice as he let his chin sink a little with it. "I'd rather like to take him to see a doctor.” He turned towards Noctis, who shook his head.

“We’re not ready yet. I know how much Gil we have, and I just got another good tip. I’m sorry, Prompto, but I think we should take a few more hunts, then we can head for Lestallum to get new equipment and check in with Jared and Iris.” He eyed Prompto, stoic but sympathetic, and muttered, “Look, if it is serious, just say something. If it’s serious, we’ll get you to the city.”

“And go off course,” Gladio muttered darkly.

“Hey, don’t go planning stuff around me. I’m here to help you, whatever it is we have to do.” Prompto lowered his chin, embarrassed. He resolved to get whatever bug this was under control.

Before they settled into the caravan for the night, Prompto begged some fun money off of Ignis, nipped over to the fuel station, and raided the medicine rack. The gas station owner hardly looked up from her TV guide as Prompto stacked up anti-nausea pills, migraine breakers, pain relievers, laxatives, and caffeine pills. He grabbed a bottle of green smoothie just to have something to keep anyone from wondering what he’d bought, and returned to the caravan with a Plan.

The Plan was, pretend everything was okay until everything is okay. Noctis’ mission was way more important than fighting off a stomach bug.

When he woke up, he felt nausea stir, and quickly popped the right pills for it and tried to roll back over to let them settle. He didn’t get sick, though he still felt queasy as he forced his way through breakfast. He hid taking the painkillers and laxatives behind a bite of toast, since his chest was already sore and he was starting to notice how bloated and achy his gut felt. He didn’t feel _good_ , but he was passing for okay. Nobody even asked him how he felt as they loaded into the car to take care of a few garulas. Ignis did give him a firm once-over, but he chirped about how excited he was for garula steak as he bounded for the car. He’d found himself strikingly good at deflection. He could have complained about his back and chest and how miserable he felt. However, he managed to find other things to whine about to keep anything suspicious from his mouth. The heat. Being bored. Anything outside of himself.

Even as he kept feeling worse and worse.

The symptoms kept stacking, day by day, week by week. Prompto was keeping a tally and adding to it every time a new one reared up. The smell aversion expanded from coffee to include most cooking or food smells, as well as leather and Gladio's man sweat stench. (He actually upchucked after walking past Gladio after a workout.) He could keep breakfast down (most days) with the anti-nausea pills, but he started needing them for lunch and dinner too. He got headaches daily, and that was making him grouchy and moody. Worse, the headaches left him fatigued and weary, and some nights saw him sleepwalking to dinner and falling asleep in the camp chair before Noct. His stomach felt like it was constantly cramping, and then he started getting muscle spasms in his hips and back. The soreness in his chest got so bad he had to give up his binder for sports bras completely. The pain medicine helped, but not everything, and it seemed like the more and harder he fought or tried to hide his symptoms, the worse they got.

It came to a head after a few weeks, during what should have been a straightforward hunt for coeurls. The sun was high and hot, and they’d stalked the grasses for what felt like actual hours before coming across a group of them. In the heat of the fight, Prompto was dripping sweat as he bolted across the backlines, running and gunning, cheering the others on all the while. They were so close! Turn in this hunt, and they were headed for Lestallum! Just one more!

“Just one more!” He had it in his sights, and he could see Ignis moving left and clearing his sight, almost like he was moving in slow motion. He had a perfect shot! “Rock and roll!” He squeezed the trigger, but his gaze was suddenly tipping upwards, and he heard Gladio hollering about a wild shot. Prompto tried to talk, but his vision went blurry around the edges, his head was suddenly too heavy, and all of a sudden, everything turned to static fuzz.

Prompto was seeing stars.

Someone was calling his name, and his back and head hurt. His senses came back to him enough that he realized he was flat on the ground, and wondered how he’d gotten to the ground, when he opened his eyes to see the blue sky above and Gladio, Noctis, and Ignis over him, looking down at him. “Prompto?” Ignis was the one speaking, just as Gladio patted his cheek with his fingers. Prompto brushed at his hand, pulling a face, and Noctis sighed with relief.

“Oh, good, he’s back with us.”

“How-” Prompto croaked, mouth too dry, and he patted for the bottle of water in his pocket, then poured some onto his mouth. Ignis and Gladio traded looks, as Prompto tried again. “How long was I gone?”

“About five minutes.” Noctis pinched his brow, and Prompto forced a grin.

“So, uh, didja miss me?”

“Prompto.” Gladio’s expression was like the reverse of levity, absolute gravity that sent any humor Prompto might have been able to work out of this crashing down hard. “What the hell happened?”

“I … I dunno. My vision went all fuzzy, I just went lightheaded, and then …” Prompto trailed off, swallowing dryly but thickly. “Then it was naptime. I guess the heat got to me. My bad.”

“As if you did it on purpose!” Noctis scoffed, then stood back. “Can you stand?”

Prompto tried to nod, but Ignis was already offering him a hand. Prompto gratefully took it and let Ignis help him to his feet. Ignis held his wrist. “You two go ahead. We’ll meet you at the car. Prompto, quiet for a minute.” Gladio and Noct traded looks, but walked ahead, and Ignis closed his eyes in obvious concentration. Prompto was about to ask, but the moment he squeaked out a single ‘Ig-,’ Ignis shushed him, and pressed his thumb in on Prompto’s wrist. Oh. He was measuring his heartrate.

“Too slow, love.” Ignis shook his head as he released Prompto, then pulled his arm around his shoulder. “Given your description of your symptoms, I suspect you may have fainted due to a drop in your blood pressure.”

“Well, that’s, um, concerning.” Prompto bit his lip, but when Ignis turned, he fell in alongside him. “I wonder if they sell anything to fix that.”

Ignis frowned and pursed his lips. “Like your headaches?” Prompto realized he probably should not have said that out loud. “How long has it been? Several weeks, yes?” Ignis stopped for a moment and faced him, features strict and schooled. “You need to see a doctor. The headaches and sickness are lingering, and given your symptoms and history, I’m concerned your anxiety is turning into a proper disorder.”

Prompto tried not to whimper at what felt like an unspoken threat. “I'm okay. Promise.”

“I know you are, but if something is wrong, I want you to make it right properly, not with stop-gap solutions or ignorance.” Ignis sighed. “I'm worried. Wouldn't you worry for me?”

Prompto choked on a laugh. “You wouldn't be passing out in the desert. You're perfect. You'd just float to a good spot to pass out.” Ignis grunted with annoyance, and Prompto sighed. “Of course I'd worry about you if you were in bad shape. You just never get yourself wrapped up in stuff I have to worry about.”

“That doesn't change that I'm worried for you now. Promise me you'll go to a clinic.”

Prompto winced, but between Ignis’ concern and his need to keep up with the others, he resolved himself. “There's probably a walk-in clinic in Lestallum. If we're there tomorrow, I'll go tomorrow.”

“Thank you. That's the spirit.” There was a devious glint in Ignis’ eye now, and it didn't dissipate as they reached the Regalia. Noctis was already sleeping in the shotgun seat, even as Ignis took his seat and announced, “Tighten your seat belts. I'd like to be in Lestallum for dinner tonight.”

Ignis put the pedal to the metal, and Prompto yelped and grabbed his seat, Noctis scrambled to a waking panic, and Gladio hollered about how _Noct_ was supposed to be the crazy driver. Prompto was suddenly extraordinarily aware of just how worried Ignis was.

Way to make a guy feel loved, he mused, when there were so many more important things to care about.

* * *

Prompto woke in his bed in the Leville and immediately flopped a hand out to find his anti-nausea medicine in his bag. He found the bottle … empty. Damn. He sat up, preparing for the worst, and it hit him as soon as he tried to stand. He bolted for the toilet as his stomach turned itself out.

Gladio and Ignis were both awake, Gladio sitting on the edge of the bed (next to the motionless, snoring lump of blankets that was Noctis) yanking his workout clothes on, and Ignis making coffee (which would have made Prompto sick all over again if there were anything left for him to lose). Gladio frowned at him as he emerged, still wiping his mouth. “I'm guessing you're not up to a morning run.”

“Let him rehydrate.” Ignis poured Prompto some water from a filtered pitcher in the room's refrigerator. Prompto mumbled his thanks as he sank into the kitchenette chair and slipped it slowly. Gladio scoffed.

“You need to be better. If you're a liability-”

“Gladio.”

“It's just a bug. I'll get some medicine for it.” Prompto shook his head. Gladio pursed his lips.

“It's not a game, Prompto. You could die, for real. If you aren't strong enough to protect Noct-”

“Gladio!” Ignis’ voice cut like a razor, but Gladio didn't flinch.

“If you can't protect yourself, then you can't protect anything, and you might as well hide with the civvies.”

“I'm trying.” Prompto pounded the rest of the water down and pressed his hands against the table to keep them from shaking. Ignis shot Gladio a glare, and Gladio rolled his eyes, grumbling.

“I don't want you to die either, okay?”  Prompto shivered when he realized what Gladio wasn't saying, but kept his focus on his half-empty glass.

“I'll do what I gotta.”

Gladio hummed to acknowledge Prompto, then stalked out. Ignis gave Prompto a slice of toast with mashed banana and an envelope.

“Here. Go to the clinic, get a proper diagnosis, and buy whatever medicine they recommend." He tapped the envelope. "If this isn't enough, let me know and we'll get whatever you need later, but whatever action you must take to be well, please take it.”

Prompto took the envelope and pocketed it, then glanced up at Ignis. “Will you … can you come with me?”

“Apologies.” Ignis' expression saddened, neutral gaze fading under his knit brow. “I told Noctis I'd escort him to the market today, since I know what we need. However, you can text me if you need support. I'll pay close attention to my phone.”

“Nah, it's okay. I'm an adult, I can handle a clinic visit.” Prompto grabbed up the last corner of his toast and swallowed twice. “I'll head out.” He glanced over to Noct, still a motionless lump in the bed, then kissed Ignis on the cheek. “Love you, Iggy.”

“And I, you.” Ignis pressed a quick kiss to his brow. Prompto left without looking back, hoping he could bring home an easy fix to all his bad omens. He couldn't let this hiccup in his health stand in the way of their mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get Prompto to a doctor by the end of this chapter but then I realized this was ten pages long and I didn't want to overwhelm you all, haha. 
> 
> Next time, though. ;D


	6. Hearing the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto finally gets a proper diagnosis, and has to decide what sort of treatment he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that some dialogue towards the end of the chapter was taken directly from the game. Did you guys know some folks actually went out and transcribed the entire game? Super helpful for when I can't remember exact bits of dialogue and it's important. owo
> 
> Please do enjoy! I had this chapter basically ready when I posted the last, and I got too excited to wait, haha...

**6: Hearing the Truth**

Prompto wasn't the only person at the walk-in clinic, even as early as he was there. He imagined that everyone there wanted to beat the stifling Lestallum heat, especially since the clinic was air-conditioned. The room was crowded with people, fathers with sick children, women flushing with heat exhaustion, but everything looked clean and smelled faintly of lemon-scented disinfectant, so it seemed trustworthy. He put his name in and waited, first filling out a questionnaire with his personal information, then flipping through the photographs in his camera. He’d been too tired to go through them the past few nights, and he scrunched his nose when he noticed that even his photography skills were suffering from his exhaustion. “Thumb on the lens.” Click, delete. “Crooked frame.” Click, delete. “Don’t know what I was thinking about the lighting on that one.” Delete. He flicked to the next one, and found a shot he’d taken of Ignis, relaxing by the fire with his feet up on the cooler. His thumb was on the lens again. Prompto studied Ignis’ relaxed face in the photo, and decided he could keep this one, thumb and all.

When his turn came, Prompto was led into a tiny room with a chair and some standard equipment. The nurse practitioner took his vitals: his temperature (normal), his weight (he tried not to listen, but was surprised to hear he was down a few pounds), and his blood pressure (low, just like Ignis had suggested), then asked, "Do you have any immediate concerns? Nausea, fever, pain?"

"No, I'm like ninety percent okay right now." He gave her a thumbs-up. She seemed unimpressed, but handed him another form to fill out.

"Go ahead and check all your symptoms on this list." She went to sort the exam materials, and Prompto skimmed the page. He quickly found everything and marked it off, his stomach sinking a little when he saw everything he’d had to mark and all the details he could add. The nurse practitioner came back and collected the form after a few minutes, then scanned it with a flick of her eyes. She studied Prompto for a moment, then said flatly, “The doctor will be with you in a moment.”

Prompto didn’t like that. He braced himself in the plastic chair and swung his legs, still thinking about all that black ink. Had Iggy made a list like that about everything wrong with him? He didn’t want to know. He almost wanted to bolt now just to avoid finding out just how sick he was.

Too late. The door swung open a moment later, and a wan Lucian woman in a doctor’s coat entered. She didn’t introduce herself, but looked at the chart she was pulling off of the door. “Mr. Argentum, yes?”

“The one and only! That I know of.” Prompto put on a charming grin, as if the doctor liking him might improve his chances of surviving whatever flesh-eating bacteria he was surely afflicted with. She cracked a little smile, then sat in the chair across from his.

“The only one here today, and that’s all I need to know.” She was quiet as she read his chart, nodding a few times, then looked up at him. “This is quite a list. When did you first notice your symptoms, and what came first?”

“Um.” Prompto thought hard, and that’s when it hit him: the coffee. “The nausea was first. Coffee - like, the smell? - started making me feel sick. I think that cropped up…” Prompto strained to remember, and found himself blown down when the math added up. “Almost a month ago.” How the hell had he lost track of time that badly? The doctor nodded a few times as she read.

“Nausea, vomiting, headaches, chronic muscle aches, exhaustion, and you said you fainted?” The doctor knit her brow up. “And no fever?”

“Not that I noticed.” Prompto bit his lip, then touched his own forehead. “I, uh, guess I didn’t check.” He remembered Ignis checking his forehead a few times, but he hadn't said anything. Ignis would have said something. 

“The NP noted that your temperature was normal today.” The doctor tapped the clipboard. “That’s alright; are you experiencing any symptoms now?”

Prompto quickly self-assessed again. “I mean, I'm mostly okay right now. Um, I puked this morning, if that counts. My stomach's still a little touchy. And the soreness is hanging around.” He rubbed right at the top of his ribcage, just under his armpits. “It's worst here, but I definitely feel it in my hips a little from walking here.”

“I see.” The doctor glanced between him and the symptoms list, rubbing her chin. “It's not exact, but it sounds like an extended bout of the flu. Unusual, but not unheard of, especially if you don't give yourself a chance to rest and heal.” Prompto audibly swallowed.

“Way to call a guy out.” He forced a grin, and she smiled with weary amusement.

“Don't thank me until I've completed my exam. Let’s check you over for anything you might have missed.” She opened the drawer and reached for her stethoscope. “Let’s start by checking your heartbeat and breathing. Take off your shirt for me, please.”

“S-sure.” Prompto always got a little itchy when it came to getting naked in front of strangers, but this was a doctor, so he couldn’t be surprised. However, the doctor did raise her eyebrows when she saw Prompto’s sports bra, then looked right back down at the clipboard.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t noted on here that you were a transman.”

“I didn’t know there was a spot for it.” Prompto avoided her eye contact, smiling sheepishly. “Uh, does that make a difference?”

“It may.” The doctor folded her hands. “Have you had gender confirmation surgery?”

“Meaning, like -” Prompto halted. “No, um. No surgery.”

Now her lips were pursed. “Are you sexually active?”

“Um.” He swallowed, then nervously, half-laughing, parroted the old line: “Nah, usually I just lie there and get my mind blown!” The doctor did not laugh. “Um, yes. I have sex. With a cis man. Sometimes. Not as much lately."

“Do you use contraception?”

“N … yes. Condoms. Except, um, when we run out, but that’s only been kind of recent.” He bit his lip. “Does … does this sound like an STD? Or, um, an infection down there?”

“Not exactly.” The doctor tapped the clipboard with her fingernail. “I would like to start running one test in particular first.” She took a plastic cup off of the counter and held it out to him. “I’d like a urine sample. There's a stall down the hall. Would you like some water?”

Prompto had the revelation somewhere under that sinking feeling: “Actually, I kinda gotta go anyway.”

He brought back the cup, which the doctor capped and handed off to one of the nurses, and sat on the cool exam table, tapping his hands to wick out his anxiety as the doctor looked down his throat, in his ears, listened to his heart and lungs, and made a few notes. A nurse pried the door open and planted a sticky note on the doctor’s clipboard just as Prompto was putting his shirt back on, and the doctor hummed with consideration.

“I have a diagnosis for you.”

“Oh, great!” Prompto hopped back onto the table. “Just a weird bug, right? Is it bacterial or viral? Can I get a prescription for it today?”

“It’s neither bacterial nor viral. I’m going to have to follow up on a few of my earlier questions.” The doctor was gripping her clipboard tight. “Do you take hormone replacement therapy?”

“Y-yeah.” That hit him hard, knocking a revelation out of him: “Oh, shit, I lowered my dosage ‘cause my doctor was in Insomnia and I didn’t think I’d be able to get more T, so I thought I could stretch it out until I could get a new doctor or find a reliable pharmacy or something. Is this, like, a withdrawal thing?”

The doctor winced. “Mr. Argentum, you must understand that changing the dosage of your medication without consulting a doctor is, simply put, a poorly-made decision.” The sinking feeling sank back in, deeper than ever, and Prompto grimaced.

“I, um, didn’t know slowing down the T would get me sick. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me. However, you have some very difficult decisions to make. Can you tell me the last time you had unprotected vaginal intercourse?”

Prompto went red to the ears. “Doc.”

“I’m sorry if ‘vagina’ is not your preferred term. I do need an answer. It’s important, Mr. Argentum.”

Prompto swallowed hard. “Um, a few weeks ago. The first time - 'cause, like, we were super careful - was about ten weeks ago, now. A few weeks after Insomnia fell.”

“I see.” She made a few notes, murmuring to herself, “So anywhere between a few weeks and ten, then...”

Prompto’s heart lodged itself firmly in his throat, making him warble like he was about to cry. “Doc? Am I going to die? In a few weeks, or ten?”

The doctor put on a gentle smile. “I don’t think so. It’s quite unlikely. However, like I said, you have some decisions to make." She sat down across from him and looked him dead in the eyes. "Let me state it plainly: you’re pregnant.”

Prompto felt all the blood in his body evaporate as his stomach hit rock bottom. If he could sink any lower, he'd drown in the earth. His mouth fell open, but all that tumbled out was, “What?”

“You’re pregnant. Anywhere between a few weeks and ten, from what you've said.” The doctor leaned towards him and took his hands. “If this is something you wish to celebrate, then may I offer congratulations?”

“C-celebrate? No! That’s impossible!” Prompto jerked back from her touch and threw his hands up. The cool metal chair was ice against his skin, and he started to shiver like he was a block tower in an earthquake. His stomach was turning and twisting, and he felt like he was going to puke as he gesticulated wildly. “I’ve, I’ve never _had_ my period!”

“You likely had your menstrual cycle break through as a result of lowering your testosterone dosage. Without doing some very specific hormonal tests, it’s impossible to say.” The doctor spoke calmly, a dam against the rising tide of his panic as she drummed her fingers on the clipboard in thought, then grabbed one of the books off of the shelf over the counter. She opened to a page to show him, but Prompto couldn't focus and the letters and diagrams swam on the page as she read and pointed. “Your symptoms, the tenderness in your breasts, the headaches, the sickness, even fainting, those are textbook symptoms of first trimester pregnancy. Would you like us to run the urine test again?”

“No! No, I - it’s not that I don’t believe you, I just -” Prompto whimpered and buried his face in his hands. “It’s not possible. I … I can’t have a baby …”

“Have you had a hysterectomy? Oovectomy? You said you hadn't had surgery, right?” Prompto swallowed hard and shook his head, feeling bile rising in his throat and tears gathering in his eyes. “Then, if your reproductive system is unaltered, it’s entirely -”

And then he couldn't hold it back, and he was vomiting words, all the poison swirling in his head. "I literally can't have a baby!" He heaved, and the doctor grabbed the wastebasket, but he shook his head so hard his brain spun as his panic spilled out. “I’m homeless,” he blurted, breathless. “You don't get it! My house is literally gone and I don't know if I'll ever be able to go back. Me and my partner have only been together two years, we’re not married - _I’m twenty!_ \- I’m a refugee from a nation that just got swallowed by Niflheim! I’m stuck traveling because my friends and I literally can’t stop anywhere because we'll get killed if they catch us! I _can’t_ have a baby!”

“Mr. Argentum - _Prompto._ Prompto, look at me.” The doctor shoved the book aside and put her hands over his. “Listen to me. Don't panic.” Too late, Prompto thought ruefully, but he nodded. The doctor breathed slow and deep to encourage him to do the same. “You still have options. Let's calm down and talk about them. Take a deep breath with me, then exhale.” Prompto listened as she guided his breathing, sucking in air and pushing it out. Tears were rolling down his cheeks now, and the doctor put a tissue in his palm. He almost wished Ignis were here, but the thought of Ignis made his breath hitch, oh, _Six,_ _what would Iggy think of him?_ “Keep breathing, nice and calm. You’re ten weeks at most, right?” He nodded hard, then smeared the tears from his eyes. “Then it’s not too late for a safe abortion. This clinic isn’t equipped, but I can refer you to one that can perform an abortion. It’s a simple, low-risk procedure at this stage. There are other options, of course; there are programs that assist unwed, disadvantaged mothers nearly everywhere. There are adoption programs that will set you up with a family-”

“Adoption,” Prompto repeated unsteadily.

“Yes, it’s an option. However, what I recommend is having a sit-down discussion with your partner about whether to continue your pregnancy, and if so, if you will keep the baby or look into alternative options.” She rubbed Prompto's shoulder, in a way she likely thought was reassuring. “The decision is yours, but talking about it with your partner - and, if I might assume, the other father?”

Prompto jerked his head up and down, whispering, “Yes, yes, of course,” but the thought of Ignis was making him feel even sicker now, because Ignis had no idea, he'd been the one who'd wanted to use protection, he'd be so upset, how could Prompto do this to him? All he could think of was Ignis' face, slack and peaceful in his last photograph, soft and kind, twisted with anger as he realized how stupid Prompto was. The doctor smiled as if she hadn't suggested throwing himself to the Voretooths.

“He might be able to help you understand. Talk you through the decision.”

“He's gonna hate me,” Prompto squeaked, his throat closing as another sob wracked its way loose of him. The doctor squeezed his shoulder.

“Are you scared of your partner?” Her face was sympathetic, and Prompto knew what she was thinking and wished he had enough composure to be appalled at the thought. Instead, Prompto bit his lip, but shook his head.

“Only of making him hate me. He'll throw me away. He’s gonna find out what I did and he’ll be so angry that I’m just making more trouble...” He sniffled and smeared the tears from his eyes, and the doctor gave him another tissue.

“You don't know that. Babies have a way of surprising people. Can I try something that might help your decision?” Prompto, still smearing his eyes, nodded, and the doctor turned in her chair to grab her stethoscope. She put the earpiece in. “Roll your shirt up and unbutton your pants.” Prompto did, and found himself looking at his navel. Then, the doctor pressed the bell to his skin. The cold metal warmed as she moved it, then halted. “Here we are. Alright, this narrows down the window of just how pregnant you are: your baby has a nice, strong heartbeat.”

Prompto inhaled so fast it hurt. _There was a baby in him and it had a heartbeat._ The doctor hummed in thought as that knowledge crystallized. “That means they're at least eight weeks mature, but - and I’m not an expert, so I can’t be certain - given how strong and its speed, I'd place you closer to ten. If you wanted more information, I could arrange for a transvaginal ultrasound with an obstetrician, but it's not necessary at this stage and you might find it invasive. However-”

“Can I hear?” Prompto had no idea when he'd gotten all choked up with something that wasn't terror, but here he was, words tangled up in a too-tight throat and new tears threatening the corners of his eyes. The doctor removed the stethoscope from her ears, cleaned the eartips with a little alcohol and a few cotton swabs, and set them over his ears. Then, she touched the bell to his stomach again.

Prompto heard it. A rush, swishing fast and strong, steady and even and perfect. That was his baby, that was their heartbeat. In the rough of everything, here was a tiny little gleam of light.

“If … if I decide to keep them …” Prompto sniffled and took the stethoscope off. “What do I do?”

The doctor handed him a pamphlet. “I'm not an obstetrician, but we do enough pregnancy diagnoses that we keep these on hand.” Prompto looked the glossy trifold pamphlet over - _“Congratulations! Welcome to Pregnancy!”_ “This has a full general rundown of what you should do. You'll want to go see an obstetrician as soon as you can so they can assess your baby properly and offer more personalized advice, and once a month after that. Just give them our info and we'll send them your file. You’ll need to stop taking your testosterone, and you might want to take some vitamins.”

Prompto mumbled a ‘thank you,’ and the doctor passed him a few more tissues. “It's a difficult decision, but trust yourself. Trust your feelings, trust your gut." Then, to his surprise, she smoothed his hair back with unnecessary affection. Prompto wanted to enjoy it, but even more, he wanted that comfort from someone who really cared about him. If only that would be possible. "Can someone come for you? Would you like to call your partner? I'd be happy to help explain your condition to him.”

Prompto shook his head. “I … I'm okay. I think I need to get myself together first.”

“It's your decision. Take your time.” The doctor gave him another pamphlet with a list of OB/GYNs nearby. “No matter your decision, be sure to see a proper obstetrician soon. If you do decide to keep the baby, your pregnancy might be a little rough because of your transition.”

Prompto forced a watery laugh. “Yeah, I believe it.” There was so much more than that, but Prompto couldn't think. He could still hear that rushing noise echoing in his head.

Prompto left the clinic with his head low, walking too fast as if he could catch up with his still-racing thoughts, all centered around one landmine of a thought.

A baby. A _baby._  His! And Ignis’! Ignis was going to lose it - _Six, Iggy, we made a baby!_ \- He’d probably already caused the poor thing brain damage running and rolling around _\- I didn’t even know I could, that this could happen, is it okay that I can?_ \- And that was even if he managed to keep his own stupid ass alive for the next, what, seven, eight months? _\- You’ve been there, you’ve been there ten weeks, I haven’t even said hello! Please don’t be mad at me!_ \- How could he do this to his friends? To Noct? _\- Can I do this?_ \- And that was before Noct and Gladio found out just how wrong he was, _defective_ , how wrong he’d always been - _Am I wrong to want this?_ \- And Ignis, Ignis would have to finally make the choice Prompto had been sure was inevitable, and Prompto knew who would come ahead when Ignis had to choose between him and Noctis - _I want you, I want you and Iggy and I want us to live happily ever after_ \- How stupid could he get?! _\- How amazing could this be?_

He realized he’d been walking without thinking about where he was going and found himself standing in front of the hotel. He had spent the whole walk arguing with himself, and he still didn’t know what to do. He closed his eyes tight, took a deep breath, and exhaled. He wasn’t sure this was a decision he could make. Not yet. Maybe he just needed to talk to Ignis, to get someone to ground him.

Somehow, he knew what Ignis would tell him, and his stomach sank again at the thought. Maybe, just maybe, Ignis would see the good in this. Except Prompto already knew the only “good” that came from this was sentiment, and sentiment alone. _Iggy didn’t hear your heart beating, he can’t imagine, he doesn’t know how it feels to know you made someone and they’re alive because of you._

Or maybe it wouldn’t matter. Maybe Noctis would get mad at him for being this stupid. He hadn’t been good enough this far, this wouldn’t make him worth an ounce more to anyone. Hell, Gladio probably would have pitched him out on his ass weeks ago. Prompto bit his lip at the thought of being forced to leave.

He turned on his heel and walked back a few blocks to a pharmacy. He grabbed the same familiar bottles he’d been buying - anti-nausea, migraine, pain relief - but now he grabbed a few stick-on heat packs for his chest and a bottle of prenatal vitamins. If there was even a sliver of a chance that he was going to do this - _have a baby, I’m gonna have a baby, even if they all kill me for it_ \- he was going to do the best he could.

Then, he took the money he had left and went into the Hunter's post in the market. He spent every last Gil of what Ignis had given him and sold off some of the odds and ends he'd found exploring to buy a piece of body armor, a vest he could wear under his clothes that would shield his middle and chest. The guy selling it said it was good for impacts, piercing attacks, and even helped against projectiles. It was something, even if it wasn't much. It was what he could do to protect that tiny heart and keep it beating.

Prompto changed into his new armor in a public bathroom, and peeked at a mirror when he lifted his shirt. His belly wasn't bigger at all, not that he could tell, but he'd been puking all the time and his appetite was gone. No wonder he had actually lost weight. He didn't look too much bulkier with the armor, either, so hopefully the others wouldn't notice anything amiss yet. Not until he either decided what to do or until it didn't matter anymore.

He needed to talk to Ignis. He needed to tell Ignis what he'd done, that he'd messed up his hormones, and now there was a baby in him. He had to tell him, “I want this baby. I want your baby. I know it's crazy to want them but I do, but I need to know what you want.” He just needed a moment of privacy to talk it out calmly, but until Ignis said ‘no,’ he was going forward on the assumption that he was carrying this baby in his belly until he could hold them in his arms.

He looked at himself in the mirror again. Shit, were his cheeks a little rounder? Didn't matter. He'd probably notice a few changes once he dropped the T completely. Instead, he looked down, and closed his eyes. “Hi there, baby,” he whispered. “Sorry it took me this long, I didn't know you were there. Um, I'm here now. I'm gonna be there for you, okay?” He chuckled softly, sheepishly. “Sorry about the coffee. You don't like it, I guess. You're not your father's kid at all, huh? I promise, no more.” He glanced back to the pamphlet sitting on top of his vest where he'd folded it on the back of the toilet. “No more coffee, sushi, unpasteurized juice or milk, blue cheese - yuck anyway - I got a whole list of ‘no-nos,’ and I got you some yummy vitamins, so you can grow big and strong.” He leaned against the mirror. “I know it's not ideal, but I'm not gonna hold how you happened against you. I don't know anything about being a parent, but I'm gonna try.”

Resolved, he sent Ignis a text to let him know he was done at the clinic. Ignis texted him back as he pulled his vest back on over his tank top and the armor, letting him know they were at the overlook viewing the Disc of Cauthess and the meteor, and to come meet them. He hurried from the market towards the overlook in a light jog. Maybe he could pull Ignis aside while Noct and Gladio were checking out the meteor.

Except it couldn't be that easy. He came up on the others and hailed them with a wave. He was about to ask them all what they'd been up to, when a tremor shook the ground below them. Prompto caught himself, but Noct's eyes went wide, pupils blown, and he dropped to his knees and clutched at his head as the tremor rumbled under them. Ignis grabbed Noct's shoulder, Gladio's hand went to his sword, and Prompto forgot all of his woes and bolted down the path. He got down on Noct's other side and tried to lift his face.

“Noct! What's wrong, what's up?”

“My - my -” Noctis struggled with his words, clenching his jaw. “My head…”

“He collapsed earlier, too,” Ignis murmured, “and he said something about a vision of the Titan and the Disc of Cauthess.”

Prompto faintly remembered Noct complaining about his head back in the cave, but he hadn't thought anything of it then. “C'mon, Noct, let me help you up.” He got Noct's arm around his shoulder and hoisted him up, but just as Noct evened out his breathing and relaxed against his back, they were interrupted by a familiar voice that slid against Prompto's ears like a knife across his ribs:

“What a coincidence!” That red-haired “man of no consequence” from Galdin Quay was there, wearing way too many shirts and jackets for this heat and smiling like a cat pinning a bird with its claws. Gladio subtly shifted forward to put himself between Ignis, Noctis, and Prompto.

“I'm not so sure it is,” he growled, arms tense, but the weird guy seemed to ignore him, sauntering a step closer as if Gladio wasn't gripping a sword thicker than Prompto's leg.

“It's funny, running into you boys like this. Reminds me of an old story! Aren’t nursery rhymes curious things? Like this one.” The suspicious stranger cleared his throat and recited. “From the deep, the Archaean calls…” He eyed Noctis with a mocking smirk, and Prompto felt a flare of fury in his breast. “… Yet on deaf ears, the gods’ tongue falls. The King made to kneel, in pain, he crawls.”

Prompto ground his teeth together, and spat back, “So how do we keep him on his feet?”

“Prompto,” Ignis warned under his breath, but it was too late.

Now the stranger was eyeing him, eerie yellow eyes running up and down his whole frame as if he could see everything he was hiding under his clothes, his skin, in his heart. Prompto held a shiver back, until the man abruptly faced Noct. “You need only heed the call. Visit the Archaean and hear his plea.”  

“The road is behind Imperial blockade,” Ignis countered. “We lack clearance.” The man shrugged.

“I can take you.” He extended a hand, smiling almost fondly at them. Prompto turned towards the others, trading looks with all of them.

“We in?” He didn't trust that guy, not one bit, and from their expressions, neither did any of them. Noct shook his head.

“I don't know.”

“But if it can get us through the blockade…” Ignis trailed off indicatively, and Noct groaned and pulled a face.

“I saw the Titan in my head. Maybe I do need to get face to face with him.”

Prompto nodded and looked between the others again. “So, we take a ride…”

“But watch our backs,” Gladio concluded.

“Reasonable.” Ignis nodded, and Noctis sighed.

“Let's do it.”

As they turned to join the man, Prompto tucked his conversation with Ignis on the back burner. Noctis had to come first. His little problem could wait a little. It would give him time to consider things and figure out what he was going to say.

He just couldn't tell the others they were riding with five in the Regalia, not yet. The little life he carried would be his responsibility for now, one rung below his duty to Noctis, and he would improvise the rest as he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, Prompto faces Eos and his personal dilemma alone, until someone else gets to hear the truth. 
> 
> As a side note, I want to plainly state that I am completely pro-choice and if a person doesn't want to be pregnant, it should absolutely be their right to safely terminate! Just, in this story, Prompto does not want to. It's a choice he has but he doesn't exercise it. 
> 
> The scene where Prompto got the news is actually one of the first few scenes I wrote.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought!


	7. Truth Bomb, Part 1: My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto struggles against man and God alike to keep himself and his little secret alive, while waiting for a chance to share his secret with someone who might care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for this chapter to get further in the plot, but things kept happening, the guys got really talkative, and all of a sudden this was super long and at a natural stopping point? So... enjoy!
> 
> Fair warning - a stressed out Gladio is not a nice Gladio.

**7: Truth Bomb, Part 1 - My Baby**

Prompto did not like Ardyn. Not even a little. He didn't say anything explicitly mean-spirited or cruel, but Prompto had dealt with enough bullies to know that superior air he carried, the derision masked behind false politeness, like the back of his hand. The really icky part was the way he stared. Because Oh. Em. Gee. NOBODY had ever told this guy it was rude to stare!

Then, the staring got _gross_. Prompto had been minding his business, looking through his photographs by the firepit in front of the caravan so he could pretend Ardyn wasn’t staring at him like he was a piece of meat on a tray and Ardyn had been waiting for the server to carry him over, when out of nowhere, Ardyn sauntered over and grabbed him by the face.

“Curious,” he remarked, tilting Prompto's head side to side as Prompto sputtered with indignity, “You do look so curiously familiar! Tell me, do you have any brothers?”

“What - get off!”

Ignis whipped around, and his whole frame tightened with sudden anger. “Is there some reason you're manhandling him?!” Gladio's face shot up from the inside of his book, lip already curled in a snarl, and Noctis snapped awake. Ardyn raised an eyebrow as if surprised by the sudden attention.

“ _Man_ handling, you say?” Ardyn laughed softly and let go of Prompto after giving his jaw a squeeze. “I should think not.” Prompto tensed, as Ardyn waved a hand. “My sincere apologies; you look like someone I know. I suppose you've a common face.” He sauntered away without another word, and Prompto turned to Ignis, hoping he could see the panic screaming in his eyes. Ignis didn't hesitate to kneel down and examine Prompto's face.

“Are you alright?” Prompto saw him mouth the word ‘darling,’ felt his palm cup his cheek in a more intimate way than the examination made necessary. Prompto nodded, jerking his head up and down.

“He squeezed my cheeks a little. It's not like he hurt me, but he really skeeves me out.” Prompto dusted his face, as Gladio spat at Ardyn’s footprints in the dust.

“He's a creep. Specs, I don't trust him around Noct.”

“We'll set up the tent. Noct, you and Prompto may have a private sleepover.” Ignis’ tone brooked no argument, but Prompto had no plans on arguing, even as Ignis doubly justified, “The caravan is crowded enough with four.”

“Fine by me.” Noctis hopped out of the chair, and he and Gladio started getting the tent out. Prompto was about to beg Ignis to stay in the tent with him, but Ignis stroked his hair a few times.

“Gladio and I will watch _him._ He won't come near you nor touch a hair on your head. However, I'll trust you to guard Noct from anything outside the tent.”

Right. Noct. Noct comes first. “I'll watch him, you got it. Let me go help set up the tent.” He hopped up to join the others, pushing his hopes of talking to Ignis aside again.

He slept in the tent with Noct, keenly missing Ignis’ presence and pining for a goodnight kiss. He settled for running his hand over his abdomen and mouthing a goodnight to someone he hadn't known existed the night before.

Ignis hadn’t even asked how his visit to the clinic had gone. Too busy taking care of Noctis. Prompto had always known he’d come second when push came to shove. 

At the moment, though, the only thing Prompto was really thinking about shoving was Ardyn.

Then, at the Disc of Cauthess, after Noct found another Tomb, they were split up when the Titan rose, mad-eyed and roaring and shattering the ground beneath them. Prompto tried to keep Noctis from falling, but Ignis ended up catching him. Gladio managed to keep Noctis from freefalling to the bottom, but the two of them slid down to a lower path on a too-steep incline. Ignis and Prompto called down from the top, reassured only when they heard Noctis shouting back. Ignis glanced to Prompto, and he could swear it was rueful, as if he wished it had been Prompto that fell instead, or that Ignis had fallen with Noctis. Instead, he declared, “Keep moving forward, we'll find a way down.”

He tried to stay close to Ignis through flares and tremors as they slid down the rolling rocks, deeper into the hot pit where Titan had been resting, until they heard the distinctive noise of an airship screaming overhead, and Ignis yanked him behind a rock as they watched it land. Ignis swore under his breath and tried to dial Noctis. The connection was tenuous at best, and Ignis managed to spit out half of a warning before the line died. Prompto, however, gaped as an army of MT riflemen and axemen marched out and diverged across the path down into the Disc, and another battalion marching towards them. The hair on Prompto's neck rose with the crackle of power off of Ignis as he summoned his daggers, and he summoned his pistol.

“Let's deal with the ones in front of them, then surprise those pursuing Noctis and Gladio.”

“You don’t gotta tell me twice!”

Despite his bravado, Prompto keenly felt each impact he took as he fell back again and again, but he plowed his way through, desperate to keep up with Ignis as he cut his way through like the MT soldiers were so much butter. Then, Ignis busted out a pole arm and charged, and Prompto picked off the last few still standing and chased him down the path to the crater.

“We got ‘em on the run, Igs!” Prompto whooped as they ran down. He could see Titan shifting again, and Ignis was observing.

“They're not what I'm worried about.” He threw a small parcel to Prompto. Prompto kept jogging as he peered inside: Blizzard grenades! “I have a feeling we may need these if the Titan should prove unfriendly.”

“Always the strategist, Igster!” Prompto cheered. “We got this! Noct'll talk him down!”

Just then, the Titan took a mighty swipe at the rock walls, and Noctis yelled somewhere in the crater. Prompto saw a faint flash of blue light of Noct warping through the crags.

They may not have had this. Ignis’ grim expression told Prompto that he didn't think so either, but he wasn't going to say so out loud.

Then they were in the pit. Noctis was staring down the Titan, and Prompto felt tiny. However, the second he saw it lift a hand to crush Noct, he was the first one to lift his gun and take a shot. The Titan flinched for a second, and Prompto jumped down alongside Noct and shoved his shoulder. “C'mon, dude, let's take this overgrown streaker down!”

It was about then that the Titan took a swipe and sent him and Noctis tumbling back. Prompto remembered to tuck and roll over his shoulder, but he tumbled and his back hit the back wall.

_Hard_.

He couldn't help but cry out at the pain that reverberated through his whole body like a bomb had gone off against him. Noctis was up first, but before he could offer Prompto a hand up, the Titan was grasping at him again, and he warped out of its path. Prompto managed to get onto his knees, heart racing, thoughts drowning him, _oh Six oh Gods don't hurt my baby please don't let them be hurt!_ Then, he heard the drone of heavy boots in sync, and turned to see more MTs marching down the slope, headed right for them.

“Iggy! Prompto!” Gladio barely took a breath or missed a beat in his assault on whatever part of the Titan he could reach. “Handle the small fry! Leave this to me and Noct!”

“We'll keep them off your backs!” Ignis answered first, and he was at Prompto's side, offering a hand. “On your feet, love,” he said, just loud enough for Prompto to hear under the tumult. Prompto took his hand and stood, locking his knees so they wouldn't turn to jelly under him.

“I'm alright,” he lied through a smile, and went for the machine gun he'd stowed in the Armiger. “Time for some crowd control! Not all of these guys can get Noct's autograph!” He laughed like a wildman and sallied forth, barrel blazing, pretending that he wasn't terrified that someone else was not so alright.

It was over fast, and Prompto could hardly follow it. He couldn't even know it was over when the ice cleared from the blizzard grenades, as the Titan's incomprehensible voice rumbled out and quaked the ground all around them, as Noct yelled in pain and crumpled to his knees again. Gladio caught him this time, but under the new noise, the crags of the Disc rattling around them as the crater began to crumble around them, Prompto was sure he heard him mutter something about Luna. Prompto tried to reach for him, but the ground rocked again.

“We have to get out of here,” Ignis declared, gripping Prompto's arm, but as he began to seek out an escape path, an MT drop ship roared overhead, and out of the empty cargo bay appeared - who else - Ardyn.

Ardyn Izunia, to be specific. “Imperial Chancellor Izunia,” Ignis said in a fiery hiss, and suddenly Prompto knew exactly who Ardyn Izunia was to them.

Or, as Prompto found himself thinking it, Ardyn _Fucking_ Izunia. _This fucking guy._

He gestured to the empty cargo bay behind him, saying “At your service! And more importantly, to your aid.”

What choice did they have? It was either accept his offer or take their chances with the landslide. Ardyn gave each of them a hand up and onto the ship, and despite feeling the propeller engines under him, Prompto got that sinking feeling as the door closed.

The cargo bay clearly wasn’t meant to hold much else other than those MT robots, but it was dark, cool, and quiet, and Prompto curled up on the floor of the hold. Gladio dropped, lowering Noctis to lean against him, and Prompto threw an arm around Noctis’ shoulder to keep him steady. Ignis, however, stood between the three of them and Ardyn.

“And what will you do with us now?”

“Why, grant you safe passage, just like I said.”

“Pretty generous offer for an imperial,” Prompto couldn’t stop himself from muttering, pointedly holding Noctis fractionally closer.

“Come now.” Ardyn smirked and stared Prompto down again. “Is it fair to begrudge a man the circumstances of his birth?”

For some reason, Prompto felt a sting in that. “Well, no, I guess not…” He hung his head and blew a strand of yellow hair from his face, as Noctis, barely conscious, slumped against him.

“Ignore ‘im, Prompto. Just…” He trailed off, head falling even lower. Gladio grunted and slapped Noctis on the back and shot Prompto a glare.

“He’s exhausted. You have no excuse, so quit your whining. Eyes open, mouth shut.” Gladio looked past Ignis, who was having a hushed conversation with Ardyn. “We should all rest. I’ll take first watch and wake you up for your shift.”

Prompto tried to rest, but the sensation of motion under them was making him uneasy. Worse, in the quiet, he was reliving the encounter with Titan. That hit he took. He wished he had a stethoscope so he could be sure the baby was still with him, because the more it sank in that the Titan might have killed his baby with one careless swipe of its arm, the more he felt like he was crumbling from the inside out. He heard the reverberating echo of the heartbeat he’d heard in the clinic bouncing in his head and knocking things loose, but he couldn’t say anything, couldn’t ask for help, couldn’t even try to feel himself over to see if anything was wrong, and with Gladio there, he didn’t dare cry about it.

Why hadn’t he just told Ignis? Said something to Noct? Anything? Now he had to be alone with all of his fears, shaking silently in place against the floor. He heard Ignis sit beside Gladio, heard them exchange soft words, and shut his eyes tight.

If sleep came, it was shallow. Prompto was vaguely aware that he was feeling sicker and sicker as the airship roared its way through the sky, and eventually, there was a hand on his shoulder. Ignis was knelt in front of him.

“Your turn on watch,” he whispered, and smoothed his hair. Prompto nodded groggily and tried to enjoy the touch, though Ignis pointedly glanced over his shoulder at the only visible door. “The chancellor has remained in the cockpit for some time, but if he should make a return and attempt any mischief, wake me.”

Prompto was about to speak, but he felt a burning in his gut, felt his insides slosh as the ship lurched, and clammed his mouth shut and nodded. Ignis smiled and gave his hair another stroke, then sat back against the wall. Prompto stood, stepping back from them and surveying the hold. There were straps on the wall for the MTs, an emptied weapon rack, a tool kit, a bucket - _a bucket_. New best friend, or they were about to get close, anyway. Prompto stood stock still, controlling his breathing and swallowing bile as he waited for Ignis to nod off. The moment Prompto was certain Ignis’ face relaxed, he lurched across the cargo hold, seized the bucket, and retched into it, bringing up bile and acid. He couldn't remember the last he'd eaten and here he was, still sick as hell on his own Six-forsaken hormones.

He almost laughed: maybe the morning sickness meant there was still a baby in him to make him sick.

He was still dry-heaving when a thin hand smoothed down his back. He startled and yelped, and turned once he caught his breath.

_Fucking Ardyn_.

“Easy now, lad. Seems air transport doesn’t agree with you, eh?” Ardyn’s smile was too friendly all of a sudden. Prompto tried to speak, but the muscles in his gut seized again and he whipped back around to spit into the bucket again. Ardyn shushed him in a pale imitation of comfort, saying, “Motion sickness can be awful, but it can’t be helped, I suppose. Some just aren’t _made_ for it.” Prompto didn’t respond, didn’t want to respond, hugging the bucket and groaning at another wave of pain, as his empty stomach tried to turn out again and his skin _crawled_ at Ardyn’s touch. “Are you quite done? I can have that disposed of. Or do you think you’ll need further use of that device?” Prompto didn’t want to speak, not trusting his mouth or stomach, but shook his head. Ardyn shrugged and took the bucket and went to a small bin on the side of the hold and pushed a panel, causing a small hatch to open, then dumped the bucket’s contents. “I do apologize for the lack of more refined facilities.”

“Don’t need it,” Prompto mumbled, and Ardyn clicked his tongue.

“No need to get defensive.” He returned the empty bucket to Prompto. “Now, do let me know if you think your illness is anything more serious than motion sickness. After all,” he paused as if for effect, and his too-friendly false smile turned into an all-too-genuine vicious smirk as he gave Prompto’s cheek a pinch, “I’d hate to think I was inadvertently transporting _medical waste._ ”

Prompto choked, heart in his throat, but mercifully someone else was clear:

“Hands off him.” Ardyn jerked back, and Prompto saw that Noctis had seized him by the coat. Ardyn put his hands up.

“Apologies; it seemed none of you were paying mind to your ill party member. Someone ought to show some concern for his well-being, don’t you think?”

“I’m fine,” Prompto lied automatically. “I’m fine, Noct.” He stumbled to his feet, taking the bucket with him, then begrudgingly glared towards Ardyn. “Thanks for showing me where the trash is.”

Ardyn’s eyes sparked. “You’ll find me useful for other things as well, to be sure, but you’re welcome.”

Noctis took Prompto by the arm and pulled, but Prompto seized the bucket before letting Noct drag him back towards the party huddle. “C’mon - you still need the bucket?”

“It’s my new best friend, Noct.”

“Seriously?”

“Unless you’re gonna let me puke on you.”

“Fair.” Noctis sat down against the wall with Prompto again, still eyeing Ardyn as he returned to the cockpit. “I didn’t know you got motion sick.”

Prompto realized he could have corrected Noctis then: _not motion sickness. Morning sickness. Plus, I’m feeling kind of awful because I’m scared I killed my baby. By the way, there might be a baby._ Instead, he deflected: “This journey’s been full of discoveries.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it.”

“Where do you want me to start?” Prompto managed to smile as Noctis chuckled, but his fingers still trembled where he gripped the bucket.

There was no point in telling anyone about a baby that might be dead already. He had some discovering of his own to do before he made any more decisions, but for now, he was alone with that miserable notion.

* * *

Ardyn set them down in a remote area far from any Imperial outpost and departed with a few more coy words and a cheeky wave, which none of them wanted to dignify with a response. The moment they were on the ground and the airship had lifted off again, as Ignis and Gladio tried to get their bearings using their phone’s GPS, Prompto used his limited wi-fi connection to search: _“How to know if you are having a miscarriage.”_

The answer: Bleeding and pain. Gross, clotty blood, and pain. Prompto was in pain, but it wasn’t in his belly. It was all in his back. His belly was bloated and uncomfortable, but it didn't  _hurt_. Plus, he wasn’t bleeding. Good sign.

_Plus_ plus, puking again the next morning was doubly reassuring - the baby was still there, making him sick as hell. He slapped his own face a few times to remind himself to take the damn anti-nausea meds the next morning, especially since they were in close quarters again for the time being.

Based on Ignis’ triangulation and the GPS map they could get on the limited service this far from civilization, they were far from where they’d last left the Regalia, way out in Duscae. Their only option was to move on foot until they could find another way back. Prompto’s first idea was something he’d been secretly hoping for before this whole road trip had begun: “Maybe we could find a chocobo outpost!”

As it happened, Wiz’s Chocobo Post was marked on their map, and though it was several days of hiking away, it was actually the closest thing to civilization anyway. They were on foot, moving between havens towards the chocobos. That meant the tent and campfires and scavenging for food to supplement what was in the Armiger, and Prompto was finding he hated the tent. The tent meant the sleeping bag, and the sleeping bag was terrible on his back. Ignis was always on the far side of the tent, flanking Noct with Gladio, and Prompto ended up crammed in between Gladio and the tent wall. Plus, the last few rumbles and rattles from Titan’s tantrum were still shaking the earth, and that didn’t make sleeping on the ground any better. The tent also meant that if he was puking in the morning (or trying not to), he risked waking everyone else up to do it.

The tent meant no privacy. The tent meant no chance to talk to Ignis for ten minutes without Gladio or Noct interrupting. Not that Ignis was making an effort to talk to him, if it even mattered.

Prompto sucked it up. He had time. He still had no idea what he was even going to say when he did get those ten minutes.

Before they reached the post proper, Noctis got distracted by a black dog. Prompto loved dogs too, but he knew this dog was way more important than just for pets (even though he could really use to pet a fluffy puppy right about now). This was Luna’s Umbra, with the little journal Noct wouldn’t tell him about, and then a woman who Noct knew, who he only identified as Gentiana.

And then, they were off chasing another God. “Another day, another deity,” Prompto had joked over his silent bitterness that he didn’t get to pet the dog, but it barely garnered a smirk out of Noctis. Prompto felt his hair raise every time Noctis touched one of those runes, but from Noctis’ grimaces, he felt a lot more and just wasn’t saying much more than what he or Gladio or Ignis prodded out of him. He muttered about Gentiana talking into his head a few times, but didn’t say much more.

Prompto did catch him muttering that Luna was in pain. That was more than enough to encourage him to push on, too.

Fociaugh Hollow was everything Prompto hated about daemon-infested caves. (It kind of seemed like every cave was everything Prompto hated about daemon-infested caves. Scratch that, he just didn’t like daemon-infested caves.) The cave was dark, dank, cramped, and smelly. Noctis seemed to be leading them forward on instinct, though Prompto could see Gladio feeling for air currents, and Ignis was likely mentally mapping the sprawling cavern. Prompto just stuck close to Noctis, even as he led them across toe-breadth ridges over sheer drops and through tiny crevasses. Gladio stared at the gap Noctis was side-stepping through. “Looks like a tight squeeze.”

“Not for me!” Prompto made to push through the gap, but realized he was subconsciously sucking his belly in. “Ugh - on second thought -”

He stumbled through the gap, but knocked his flashlight out as he emerged. He groaned and took a few steps away from the aperture, then tapped the flashlight hooked to his vest to stop it from flickering. As the light came back on and steadied, Prompto saw something move in the dark, then heard a faint hissing, rattling noise. He instinctively moved towards the noise, wanting a better look, and something brushed his leg - something _scaly_. He yelped and stumbled, and his light flickered off as it bounced against his chest.

And then he felt the scales again.

“Get it off me!” He yelped, scrambling back. His heel caught a rock, and he slipped and tumbled, rolling down the path deeper into the cave. Noctis called out after him, but as he recovered onto his knees, whatever it was wrapped around him, and he screamed. His flashlight came on just in time to shine into the face of a massive snake lady, and it screeched and dropped him as his light hit its eyes.

“My baby!” She yowled, and he tumbled as soon as he hit the ground and bolted. The others were shouting after him, but he ran for cover. He pressed himself to a wall, heart thumping in his chest like a mallet pounding a drum. He gathered himself and shouted:

“It dragged me all the way over here!” He scoped around for more cover, and made a dash for it. He felt the thing whip past him again and yelped, “This is literally the worst! Why did it have to be a snake?!” His breath was coming too short, and as he ran for cover, he could feel the panic attack coming on. Then, he ran into something and large hands grabbed him, and he screamed.

“Quit your bawling!” Gladio shouted, and despite himself, Prompto grabbed onto him back.

“It’s you - not her - it’s you!” He clung to Gladio. “She’s still around here, I know it!” Gladio pried him off and planted him on the ground.

“What the hell was it?”

Ignis put a hand on Prompto’s shoulder, and it was enough for him to calm and catch his breath for a second. “Big, big snake,” he choked out. “She grabbed me and - like - coiled around me -”

“Well, that’s not cool.” Noctis turned back around, just as Gladio was winding up to antagonize Prompto again. “Let’s go make sure she can’t do that again. Gladio, take point with me.”

Prompto had needed to hear that, and was grateful for Gladio turning his attention elsewhere. It didn’t make his heart calm, and he was jumping at every shadow as he hung close to Ignis. Every drip of condensation or distant screech made him jump and shiver. Gladio kept hissing at him to calm down, but Ignis kept a hand on his back. Prompto swore he could still hear it slithering nearby, but as they came into a clearing, he saw it in the open, and screamed a rush of incoherent nonsense. Gladio clamped a hand over his mouth as Noct faced it, sword in hand.

“Cool it!”

“My … my baby…” The naga was staring at Prompto, her head swaying side to side like a bull getting its bearings. Noctis scoffed.

“We don't have your baby!”

She hissed, fangs bright. “Then _you'll_ be my baby!” With that, she lunged for Prompto again, knocking Gladio off and constricting Prompto around his trunk again. He swore he felt his spine _pop_ when she squeezed, and his brain was gone.

Prompto recalled exactly none of the subsequent fight. Everything was lost to the terror. He had vague snatches of memory, of being dropped, maybe of firing his gun. He vaguely recalled the lightning strike. Gladio muttered something about Ramuh. Ignis escorted Prompto out, back into shining daylight. Prompto was still seeing the cave. Prompto was still hearing the Naga hiss in his ear as he did manage to get a grip on himself again.

“Wonder why that thing thought Prompto was its baby,” Noct mused as they approached the caravan. Prompto shook his head.

“Just… keep her away from me.”

“Not a fan of snakes, huh?” Gladio smirked a bit, but Prompto just shivered against Ignis’ hand.

“Can't stand 'em. Bugs, creepy-crawlies… _that_ …” He forced a high, tight laugh. “Make me go weak at the knees.”

They were at the caravan. Prompto let his legs go out from under him, strained from holding himself together this long. Ignis tsked, and Gladio shook his head. “Drama queen.”

“Prompto?” Noct sounded worried, but Prompto felt the break coming on as sure as if he could hear his soul creaking as it bent around his own battered psyche.

“M’fine. Just - uh - little tired.” Gladio scoffed, but Prompto couldn’t pick himself up. “Go on ahead, I, uh, I gotta take a leak anyway.” He forced himself to rise enough to stagger into cover, and waited until he could hear the others walking away.

Then he let the panic attack consume him again. He was on his knees, heart racing, mind racing, every terrible thought he couldn't hold back tearing through him.

_The baby, the baby, my baby,_ what if they were dead, what if they were dead now - _he couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep it up, couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t -_

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think and he couldn’t breathe, he hurt and he couldn’t breathe, and he just wanted Ignis to notice, to care, to take his hands and whisper his name, but he couldn’t let on that he was struggling. He didn’t want to be thrown away yet. _Idiot, idiot, you killed your baby, what the hell is wrong with you?!_

“My baby,” he whispered to himself, and hugged his own chest, his heart still pounding and his hands trembling. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I’m s-so s-s-s-s…”

His chest seized, and he swore his lungs were collapsing. Everything was a blur, darkness and cold and wet, and the daemons screeching in the distance. He dizzied himself on his own breathing until his vision grayed out.

He wasn’t even aware of how long he’d been there until he heard Noctis shouting for him. He forced himself to stand on shaking legs to return to the others and hope he could compose himself enough that nobody would ask. He had to try harder and be better for Noct, he had to, he _had_ to.

His hands shook for the rest of the night. Ignis noticed him trembling as they got into their sleeping bags for the night, but when he wrapped his arms around Prompto in the dark, it didn’t give Prompto even a fraction of the comfort he wished he could have.

* * *

The next morning brought pain, but no blood. Prompto woke before all the others to puke again. Then took his painkillers and anti-nausea medicine, washed his face, then slapped his cheeks a few times to knock the shakeup of the previous day out of his system. He was fine, he told himself. He had to be fine.

He shook himself out and stepped out of the caravan, only to find Ignis brewing coffee on the camp stove and Gladio doing one-handed push-ups. He sprang back to his feet as soon as Prompto stepped down from the caravan door.

“Puking again.” Prompto flinched, as Gladio stood with his back to the rising sun, arms crossed. Ignis glanced up from the folding table for a moment, then returned his attention to cutting up apples.

“Anxiety’s a hell of a thing.” He almost wished he could tell Gladio he was just _fine_ puking because puking was validation that nobody had died because of him. Gladio just scoffed, flashing his teeth.

“Whatever. You keep bouncing back from it, but if I find out you’re doing it on purpose-”

“I’m not.” Prompto stood tall but kept his eyes low. Gladio studied him carefully. Ignis didn't say anything.

“You feelin’ okay?”

Prompto wished he could be honest, but he didn’t dare imagine Gladio was _concerned_ for him or anything like that. Instead, he had to shrug. “No worse than anyone else.”

Gladio narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be vague. Anyway, it’s been a while since we did one of our morning runs. You up for it?”

Prompto shrugged. “Let me get pants and a swallow of water and I’ll be ready.”

He found his jogging shorts and left his vest hung on one of the camp chairs. Ignis eyed him curiously as he took a long drink of water, but didn’t stop working on breakfast. Gladio had been doing stretches, but limbered up when Prompto walked over next to him. They lined up, side by side, and Gladio whistled. “Hey, Ignis, give us a three count.”

Ignis snorted through his nose, not quite looking at them. “Three, two…”

Neither Gladio nor Prompto waited for the ‘one’ and set off at a run. Prompto restrained himself to a steady pace, not a sprint but a good jog that he could maintain. Gladio, however, was just plain running harder, springing off of his long legs and tearing ahead. Prompto strained to jog a little faster, but the pain in his ribs tore at him, and he had to slow down to keep the ache through his back and belly at bay. Gladio didn’t slow down, even turning over his shoulder to taunt him, “Falling behind, chocobutt!”

Prompto couldn’t retort. The strain of running like he was kind of precluded talking. He just did his best not to lose sight of Gladio for the rest of the lap.

Gladio finished the lap, and Prompto stumbled in behind him, panting for breath. Gladio was bright red from effort too, breathing heavily, but he slapped Prompto’s bad as he staggered to a stop. “Felt good, huh?”

“Y-yeah. Been too long.”

“I can tell. You’re getting slow.” Gladio smirked and poked at his chest, but Prompto realized he wasn’t teasing. This had been a test, and he had probably failed. “You ought’a work out more. Maybe you wouldn’t get knocked around by snakes if you tried to bulk up a little.” Gladio then prodded at his face. “Unless you think getting fat on Iggy’s cooking counts.”

That was as good as a bullet to the back. Prompto swiped at Gladio’s hand - seriously, why was everyone grabbing his face?! “I’m not getting fat!”

“Your chubby cheeks tell me otherwise. It always shows in the face first.” Gladio seized his chin in his hand, holding Prompto's jaw shut. “Listen, I get you thought you were coming on a fun road trip with your buddy, but that's not what we've got going anymore, and we haven't been doing that for months. I would've thought you'd have put that together by now.” He squeezed, making Prompto choke on his tongue. “Take this seriously! You think we gave you that Crownsguard uniform because it looked good on you?”

Prompto shoved Gladio back again. “No! I'm here for Noct, no matter what!”

“Then quit freaking out and panicking every time you're under the gun! Think of him first instead of yourself!” Gladio advanced on him, jabbing his finger into his chest. “This's the only time I'm gonna warn you - shape up or ship out. We don't need dead weight like you." He drew himself up tall, a shadow blotting out the morning sun, eyes dark like a storm cloud. "What's more, I know you're distracting Ignis.”

Prompto felt a cold lump in his throat. “I'm not! What the hell makes you say that?”

Gladio scoffed, lip curled. “If you don't know, I'm not spelling it out for you. If I'd known trying to hook you two up would've led to this, I never would've bothered.”

“It has nothing to do with that.” Prompto clenched his fists and glared at the pounded earth beneath their feet. “Iggy takes care of all of us.” The lump in his throat got bigger. “I'm nothing special.” Gods did it hurt to say that, but it ached to think back on the last few weeks, how little Ignis had touched him, talked to him directly. Even the hand on his back yesterday was more to herd him along than to comfort him. Gladio shook his head.

“Don't know what pisses me off more - that neither of you did anything about your stupid crush or that it's in my way now. Bottom line: if you can't keep up running with the big boys, we'll drop you with Iris and you can play security guard from a comfy hotel room. You don't like it?” Gladio shoved him, sending him toppling back onto his backside. “Do something about it.” With that, he stepped over Prompto and headed back towards camp. Prompto laid flat for a moment.

“Ow,” he said to himself. “Thanks for the truth bomb, Gladio. Real helpful. Enlightening.” He rolled to a sit, and winced when he felt something more solid in his middle. Perfect. As if feeling bloated and having Gladio pinch his cheeks wasn't bad enough, actually becoming cognizant of the thing growing inside of him, _making him fat_ , was basically a nightmare. He put a hand over it, but he couldn't feel it from the outside. Not yet, anyway.

What he did feel was hot around the eyes and under the collar, and without realizing it, he was smearing off tears. Fucking hormones. They were the worst. “You keep making me cry, baby. Thanks, I hate it.” He managed to laugh at himself through the tears, then got to his feet. “Okay, so, new plan. We tell nobody. Ever. I get Noct to Altissia, priority number one, keep you safe under my shirt for as long as I can, and the second I become a problem for them, you and me split.” He swallowed hard against the resolution. “Iggy… He won't mind. It'll be one less thing for him to worry about.”

If Ignis had cared, he would have asked by now, right? He would have talked to him about why he'd been such a mess, or asked about the clinic. He'd been preoccupied with Noct. It was something Prompto thought he'd accepted about their relationship, that it would have to be on borrowed or stolen time when Noct didn't need Ignis. There just wasn't very much of that anymore. None at all. Despite what Ignis had said, he couldn't make time for Prompto. Prompto would trade everything he had for a good, long hug, but he had nothing to trade, and both of them had a job to do.

Prompto would do his job until he couldn't. That was his duty. Then, he would bow out, like Gladio had said. Explanations? _Telling_ anyone? Yeah, right.

“You're just going to have to be _my_ baby.”


	8. Truth Bomb, Part 2 - Impact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto travels east and west with his secret riding heavy on him, but the changes are becoming more noticeable and a storm is about to hit...

**8\. Truth Bomb, Part 2 - Impact**

By the time they got to the chocobo post, Prompto was sure he was still pregnant. He could taste the bile in the back of his throat every time he woke up in his sleeping bag. He never thought he’d be happy to feel sick. He was even happier when they came up on the post again, and for the first time in his life, he was about to meet a chocobo.

(No worries. Not now. Just chocobos.)

Or not. Because they were all in the barn, and the old man who ran the post, Wiz, told them about the behemoth rampaging in the hills, spooking the birds. Prompto’s heart flared with righteous fury: nobody was allowed to hurt chocobos! They were precious and wonderful and must be protected! He didn’t even have to convince Noctis, Noctis took the job without a second thought.

“You’ve been talking about wanting to ride the chocobos since you heard we were coming this way.” Noctis’ mouth slipped into a tiny little smile. “It’s rescue the chocobos, or you keep singing that song until my ears bleed.”

“Hey!” Prompto squawked and followed Noct up the path, as Gladio snickered.

“He’s got it bad.”

“There are worse vices.” Ignis sounded warmly amused, at least. Prompto liked knowing Ignis was smiling because of him.

It was a nice thing to focus on instead of how light-headed he was feeling. He tried to keep up with Noct as they stalked the Behemoth through the path, but before he knew it, he was at the back of the pack as Gladio and Noct led the way into the misty woods. Prompto felt overheated and sick as they crept along, hardly able to focus on the path ahead as they tracked the beast towards its den. _For the chocobos_ , he reminded himself as the ground quaked.

When they caught sight of the thing, missing horn, scarred face, blinded eye, Gladio gruffly muttered, “It's all in the name,” and tapped his own scar. Prompto swallowed and nodded, but he could only wonder what sort of thing could damage a Behemoth like that. What sort of horrors were out there?

Then they found the Deadeye's lair and Prompto stopped worrying about that. Much more worrisome was the horror, the rancid-smelling, growling beast up on the plateau in front of them. Prompto took in the Behemoth’s stamping grounds: an old, abandoned power plant, craggy rock walls around it, slippery ground with mud slicks, battered old cable towers, carcasses and bones, barrels of oil - barrels of oil? - but as Ignis quietly started to muse about a strategy, Gladio and Noctis traded mischievous grins and summoned their weapons. With a roar, Gladio dove in, and Noct warped across the field in a blue blaze to one of the towers, then warped back to strike at it from behind. Ignis groaned and drew his daggers, then shouted:

“Catch its fur on fire if you can! We can use those oil barrels to cause it damage if we can make them explode!”

The oil barrels! Prompto summoned and looked at his gun, and decided any shot he might land on the thing would be pointless when even Gladio's strikes only seemed to make the thing angry. “Igs, Noct! I'll bring the boom to you!” Even lightheaded, he could tell left from right and roll a barrel. Noctis caught his eye and nodded.

Prompto didn't take a single shot. Instead, he darted around the field, rolling the barrels towards the Deadeye as it rampaged around the grounds. It moved fast for something that big, but Prompto had been a runner and when he pushed his limits, he was faster. He wasn’t as strong as Gladio, but he was strong enough to kick the barrels over and send them rolling, then yelled so the others would know: “Incoming!”

“Got it!” Ignis would put the flames to his daggers and strike the oil, or Noct would cast a flame towards the barrel. Like cogs in the machine, Gladio and Noctis knew to jump or warp out of the way before the explosion, then dive back in the second the smoke cleared, hacking away as the beast rampaged on, scorched and angry but clumsier and weaker every time. If that thing was that much of a mess and still fighting, Prompto would too, dammit!

Six explosions and half an hour of angry sword swinging later, Gladio finally managed to get his greatsword up through the Deadeye’s neck, and roared an order, “GET BACK!” Prompto didn’t have to be told twice and ducked out of the way, as Deadeye wobbled, let loose one last broken cry, then collapsed in a heap with an impact that shook the ground all around them. Gladio yanked his sword out, then cracked the remaining horn off with a good, hard kick.

“Nice moves, everyone.” Noctis dropped down from the tower he’d warped to, then took the horn from Gladio and sent it to the Armiger. “Let’s get back, I don’t know if I saw a haven on the way up here.”

“I might’ve,” Gladio offered, turning to follow. Ignis didn’t, instead turning towards Prompto.

“Good contributions,” he said in a low, soft voice. Prompto hadn’t gotten up from where he’d doubled over - when had he gotten this out of breath? Was it just hitting him now that the adrenaline was draining out, or had he just not noticed because he was too focused on not dying? Ignis knelt by him, frowning. “Are you quite alright?”

Noctis and Gladio were _all the way over there._

He could  _tell_ Ignis.

_I’m not okay Iggy I’m having your baby and I’m scared and I haven’t felt this alone since I realized my parents were never coming home again. Being this scared is making me useless and Gladio already knows it. The second you realize it you’re going to throw me away._

But no.

“Just… whew…” He exhaled hard, then forced himself to inhale as deep as he could, unable to lift his head just yet as all the blood ran to it. “Was a lot of running around there. Just catching my breath, yeah?” He forced a big smile for Ignis, and Ignis smiled back, then wound his arm around his shoulder and helped him stand.

“Impressive sprinting. I think you must have broken your old speed record.”

“Nah, pretty sure the time you told me His Majesty gave you an unexpected night off still holds my mile-per-minute record.”

“You could have waited for a bus.”

“And make you wait on public transportation for your daily recommended dose of vitamin Prompto? No way.” Prompto managed to lift a trembling hand to shoot finger guns at Ignis, and Ignis stifled a laugh.

“I prefer my daily dose of Prompto fresh rather than sweat-soaked and on the verge of collapse, if you don’t mind.”

“Hey, Igs!” Gladio was shouting from the top of the ridge. “Is the little shit making you carry him?!”

“Shut up, you weren’t running after that thing and trying to move those heavy-ass barrels!” Prompto got himself out from Ignis’ hold, staggering when he was supporting his own weight. “All you had to do was hold on to its icky fur and keep stabbing it!”

“Whatever, just walk on your own two feet!” Gladio scoffed and turned around again. Ignis scoffed.

“Ignore him. He’s just sour because we’re off course.”

“We don’t even know what the ‘course’ is.” Prompto flexed his arms behind his head. He was sore, but that was normal now, and his breathing was evening out. “Nah, he thinks I’m useless. It’s fine. I just gotta prove him wrong.” He put his head down and kept walking, one foot in front of the other. “Was that any better, asshole?”

Ignis had halted for a moment, but caught up with Prompto. “Did he say that to you?”

“Yeah.” Prompto bit his lip. “Nothing I didn’t know, though.” He kept walking, tall and strong, and Ignis walked at his side.

“I’ll have words with him. You’ve more than earned your place, and I won’t stand by and let him convince you to self-deprecate.” He marched right past Prompto towards Gladio, and Prompto just grimaced.

It didn’t matter, did it? He’d done his job.

The campfire was quiet that night. Ignis and Gladio were pointedly not looking at each other, and Noctis fell asleep before dinner was even done. Gladio brought Prompto a bowl of root vegetable stew, and growled into his ear: “You got a problem with me, don’t go crying to your boyfriend next time.” Then, he sat himself, and said a little louder, “That aside, you did alright today, kid.” Ignis shot Gladio another harsh look, and Gladio ducked into his book again. Prompto made himself smile.  

“Thanks. And thanks for dinner too.”

Even if Gladio had been forced to say it, it felt nice to hear. And the soup did look delicious and warming, comforting. Nourishing. Prompto hoped he could keep it down in the morning, but even the notion of losing another meal wouldn't get him down.

Tomorrow there would be chocobos.

* * *

Chocobos made everything worth it. When Wiz opened the barn and those beautiful birds strutted out into their paddy, he couldn't resist squealing before running to the fence and climbing a rung so he could hug one around the neck.

Gods did that hug feel good, even if it was around a bird's neck rather than a warm chest, and if the chocobo didn't hug back.

“So soft,” he cooed into her throat, then rubbed his chin against her feathers. He felt her trill with delight, and nuzzled into his shoulder. “You're so pretty, so warm…”

The other three were taking their time to admire the birds too. Ignis and Gladio (who'd either gotten over or forgotten their previous tiff) were examining one together, admiring the plumage. Ignis stroked his chin, smiling wryly with consideration. “If it were black, it would look more like Noct's hair.”

Gladio, arms crossed, snorted and smirked. “The butt looks like Prompto's bangs. Check this side.”

“No, thank you.”

Noctis, however, had explored a little more, and after a few minutes hugging onto the chocobo and telling her just how soft her feathers were, Prompto heard him clicking his tongue and whistling. He looked past the chocobo he was hugging and spotted Noct in the barn, sitting in a pile of hay and waving Prompto over. Prompto jumped the fence and joined him, and saw what Noct had:

“A baby!” Indeed, Noct had a tiny yellow ball of fluff secured in his lap, and he was dangling some greens over its head, leading it to hop around his crossed legs. Prompto knelt down right next to him just to get a little closer.

“I heard them peeping.” Noct couldn't tear his eyes away. “I thought it'd be a chick, so I had to look. They're so fluffy, I knew you had to see 'em.”

“Y-yeah.” Prompto was shaken by just how precious the little thing was, as Noctis dangled the greens over Prompto's legs, and the baby hopped right up to him.

“Here.” Noctis waved the greens, making the chick jump for them then offered the stem end to Prompto. Prompto took them, holding them a little closer, but the baby chocobo hopped, fluttering its tiny wings, and snapped the greens right out of Prompto's hand as Prompto squealed in delight.

“It's the cutest thing ever!” His voice cracked, and he realized his face was  _wet._ Shit, was he crying because the chick was just too cute? Hormones were the worst! He smeared at his face, but Noct had already noticed.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Noct leaned over, but Prompto smeared the tears away.

“Y-yeah, dude, m'fine. Just, I can't remember the last time I was this happy.” He cleared the last few tears with his fingers, then wrapped his arms around the baby chocobo as it nuzzled into his belly.

Noct frowned. “You sure? I've been worried. You've been quiet. It's weird.”

Prompto swallowed. “Wh-what? Nah, man, I've been tired, but aren't we all tired?” He fanned himself. “Like, super wiped.”

“I guess, but I heard you upchucking again. You woke me up this time.” Noct pulled a sour face. “I heard Gladio call you on it a few times, too." Prompto flinched, but Noct shook his head with frustration. "It seems like you're sick every other day, dude. Didn't Specs send you to get checked out in Lestallum? You never told us what went down.”

“Oh, yeah?” Prompto's voice broke again. “I guess so. Kinda got lost in the sauce, what with the Titan and then we got stranded, and now we're lost out here.” He rubbed the back of his head, as Noctis numbered something on his fingers.

“That was more than three weeks ago, wasn't it?”

“Guess so.” Prompto swallowed hard. Noct punched his shoulder.

“Then what did they say?”

Prompto clenched his jaw for a moment. The chocobo chick peeped again and cuddled his chest, bumping its head to his middle, knocking his worry back for a second. He dug his fingers into its fluff. “That… it was nothing serious. Happens to a lot of people, actually. It'd go away on its own, sooner or later. And… I know we can't wait for me to feel better.”

“Come on, Prompto.” Noctis crossed his arms, full-on pouting. “I would've waited for you. You just have to say something, tell me how to help you.”

“Dude. Saving the kingdom can’t wait for one loser like me.”

Noctis scowled. “Would I be friends with a loser? Come on.” He shoved at Prompto again, but he didn’t mean it. “This disease that goes away on its own got a name?” Noctis turned his scowl towards the ground.

Prompto winced. He had a smart-aleck answer, _Nah, I haven't picked one yet._ Instead, he just shrugged. “S'complicated.”

“How complicated?” Noctis grabbed his arm, but before he could pry any further, Ignis appeared at the barn door.

“Ah, here you two are. Go wash your hands; I've ordered us some sandwiches, and I do believe Wiz said he might have more work for us before we set out.”

“Sounds awesome!” Prompto gingerly set the chocobo chick down and hopped to his feet. His equilibrium rocked, but he forced himself to walk straight (disguising a wobble as a playful skip), but Noctis caught his arm.

“Promise you'll talk to me later. This conversation isn't over. I'm worried.”

“I'm fine, Noct.” Prompto repeated the mantra like saying it enough would make it true, and hurried away.

Prompto wished he could tell Noct. He wished he could know what Noct would do to him when he found out. He wished he didn’t have to be afraid of it. The best he could do was take a little comfort in knowing Noct cared despite everything else, and then try to continue that conversation never.

* * *

Ignis hadn’t been exaggerating, Wiz had jobs for them. They were apparently getting a rep as Hunters, and Wiz needed some dependable boys to handle things for him. With no sign of the Regalia and funds a perpetual concern, they took everything he had to offer to build up their rep and to get whatever resources they could. Wiz kept them running around the marshes of Duscae and even tripping back towards the borders of Leide on chocobo-back, and they even ended up picking up paying quests from tipsters at the Kenny Crow’s near the Coernix Station on the road.

Prompto preferred the afternoons they took to rest at the caravan near the chocobo post, racing chocobos or even just licking their words, to sloshing through Alstor Slough looking for Yellowtooth or Spiracorns and trying not to get gored. However, he was honestly just happy to be busy. It kept him from getting back to conversations he really didn’t want to have, and it also kept his mind off of things.

Like how the gysahl greens actually kind of tasted good when he tried them (as if Gladio didn’t tease him enough about his love of chocobos already without him acting like one!).

Like how his pants were starting to feel tight.

Like how, almost out of nowhere one morning, Prompto looked in the mirror after getting out of the caravan's shower stall and found his middle had a little swell, a bump just under his navel. He had to look twice, three times, then felt it with his hands, tracing every contour of the curve with his palms. “You're getting bigger, baby,” he whispered. “You're really there.”

What did they look like? How big were they? How much longer would he be able to hide them?

He tried not to think about it, any of it. He couldn't afford to.

Then, finally, they got the call from Cindy: someone had spotted the Regalia. Specifically, at a Niff base. _“And y’all need to move on it, too,”_ she’d added. _“Seems the only reason it stayed where it was so long was because of some nasty storms that had been lingerin’ in the area, but once word got through that the skies had cleared, the Empire sent an airship in to snatch it up and it’s supposed to be landing any day now.”_

The moment Noct got off the phone, Prompto was pumping his fists. “It’s time to Bust-A-Base! Can we call it that? I'm calling it that.”

“Call it whatever you want. It’s time to bust our wheels out of impound.” Noct cracked his knuckles. “Let’s hope the lot takes beatings as currency.”

“Fortunately,” Ignis pitched in as he went to the chocobo rental sign, “I believe that’s universally accepted.”

They rode the rest of the afternoon to get there, and arrived in the dead of night. Prompto was swaying on his feet when they dismounted the chocobos, somehow already exhausted, but for Noct, he was ready to stand and fight. Only Ignis seemed to notice his weariness, frowning and tugging his sleeve as they dismounted, and as Noctis and Gladio took the lead towards Aracheole Stronghold.

“You look like you’re about to fall dead asleep on your feet.”

“I'm fine. I'll be finer when I can get my nap on in the back seat.” Ignis examined him, brow furrowed, then fluffed his hair.

“I imagine we could all use a good night's sleep on something more comfortable than the caravans. Soon, love. For now, let's retrieve our wheels.” He turned to join Noct after that, already strategizing, and Prompto trailed along a step behind, already feeling dread creep over him as they approached.

Luckily, Noct and his warp-strikes took point, and he tore his way through the MTs guarding the base like paper without setting off an alarm and waking up every Niff in the place. Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis could handle the strays he'd missed with ease, creeping along under Noct and in the shadows cast by the walls and crates. Finding the Regalia parked out behind the stronghold's main structure was almost too easy. And it was.

Trying to disable the generator was the hard part, because that did wake up every Niff in the place. Some huge mech roared to life, and MTs poured out of every door like a bad movie had just ended inside, and it was everything Prompto could do to keep up. Noct was warping between turrets and using the machine guns to tear chunks out of the mech, as Gladio and Ignis did the same, hacking at its legs or using bursts of magic. Prompto felt worthless with nothing but his pistols and guns, but damn if he wouldn't use them. He sprayed bullets in arcs, staving off the MTs with a hail of cover fire and blowing them down in waves.

Then, one of them dropped something interesting. He'd heard a shrieking noise come from it before Gladio had knocked it aside without even looking at it, and he scrambled over to pick it up before any of its buddies could. The grip fell into his hands, naturally, and he pointed the mouth away and directly into the face of the nearest MTs.

Sound, ineffable _noise_ shrieked, louder than Prompto's brain could process, and all the MTs in the blast radius were fried by the sonic blast. Prompto dropped the noise gun, ears ringing, and he clutched at his head as the pain reverberated. His head spun, too light, then too heavy, and before he could process that his legs and arms had gone limp, he blacked out.

When he came to, the ground was shaking again, and Prompto's vision cleared just in time for him to have no fucking clue what he was looking at. A giant man, at least a million feet tall, was reaching a gnarled hand towards him - and then grabbed Noctis like a banana. Prompto scrambled to his feet in a panic, until he took in the long beard, the hand grasping a staff, the robes - it was just like all the old illustrations of Ramuh. It was Ramuh.

“Oh. Em. Gee. Literally.” He staggered a step back, as Ramuh raised his staff, and the atmosphere crackled. All the hair on the back of Prompto's neck rose, and his internal alarms went off, telling him to ground himself. He ducked low, hugging the rubber soles of his boots, but lifted his gaze just in time to see the bolt of lightning crash down onto the generator. The energy passed over him in waves, sending the last few MTs malfunctioning and crashing to the ground and demolishing the generator tower. Prompto felt the energy, but not the sting of electrocution. He stood as Ramuh lowered Noctis back to the ground, and he rushed over to join him, with Gladio and Ignis close behind. The sun was rising, the sky was clear, and Noctis was swaying on his feet as the vision of Ramuh faded into the dawn sky.

“Dude, that… was HARDCORE!” Prompto held his hands up, and Noctis, though looking a little dazed and a lot tired, laughed and high-fived him.

“Takes a lot out of me, but damn, you get what you pay for.”

“That's the power of the gods for you,” Ignis remarked, and Gladio slapped Noct on the back.

“I think we've cleaned out here. Let's clear out, there's a stack of pancakes somewhere with my name on 'em.” Gladio staggered past them towards the Regalia, and Prompto grimaced.

“I'm thinking more along the lines of a bed. With pillows stacked higher than any plate of pancakes, ever.”

“You just had a nap,” Gladio groused, “Don't think I didn't see your ass passed out back there.”

Ignis started, and Noct halted too, fire in his gaze. Ignis’ brow was wrought with worry rather than anger: “He fainted again?”

Prompto held his hands in front of himself. “No - um, well, sorta.” He dropped his focus to their chests, unable to meet their eyes. “I found this cool sound gun the MTs were using and, uh, kinda got super dizzy after I blasted them with it. I think it kind of broke my equilibrium for a minute.”

“Then you shan't use it again!” Ignis scowled, throwing his shoulders back. “We do not find out whether or not to eat wild mushrooms by putting them in our mouth, and likewise, we do not test weapons by-”

“Save it for later, Igs.” Noctis groaned and walked on. “He messed up, he got the consequences.” Prompto winced, but followed the others, wishing he had a tail to tuck between his legs. His ears were still ringing, but he wasn't sure if it was from the thunder or the sound blaster anymore.

Just as they reached the car, though, they were interrupted by a pissed-off blond guy with a robot arm. Noct swore under his breath as Gladio took his place at Noctis’ side, fingers already twitching as he prepared to summon his greatsword. Ignis put himself in front of Prompto, murmuring, “Don't draw yet, we don't know what he wants, perhaps he's come on behalf of Lady Lunafreya.”

Ravus Nox Fleuret, as Ignis identified him later, had not come on behalf of Lunafreya. Instead, before Prompto had even figured out what he was talking about, he had drawn on Noct, Gladio had intercepted, and then Ravus tossed Gladio ten feet backwards into the car. _He didn't even use the robot arm!_

“A weak shield protects naught.”

Gladio hit the side of the car with an impact like a cannonball. Prompto dove down after Gladio to check on him, then jumped up and put himself between Ravus and Gladio.

Gladio was a dick, but he'd still protect him with his life.

Noct had already summoned the ghostly images of the Armiger, but before he had a chance to use them, Ardyn _Fucking_ Izunia appeared like he'd popped in from thin air and intervened. With a few hand, he was escorting Ravus away, departing with a cheeky, “Fare thee well, Your Majesty, and safe travels.”

Prompto immediately turned back to Gladio and held a hand out. “You got it, big guy?”

“Shut up.” Gladio smacked Prompto's hand back, and groaned all the way up to his feet. Noct was sulking too, and even Ignis looked terse in the wake of the encounter. Still, he had to ask.

“You guys know that guy?”

“Lady Lunafreya's elder brother, Ravus Nox Fleuret. Concurrently, the High Commander of the Imperial Army.”

“And a fucking asshole!” Gladio snarled, fists clenched and trembling as he glared at the ground. Ignis heaved a sigh.

“Disparagement of his character aside, regardless of whether or not such is due, we should be moving on. Noctis, you look like you'll fall over if Prompto blows on you, even accounting for Prompto's present lethargic state.”

There were no more complaints after that. Prompto climbed into the back seat of the Regalia, never more grateful for the familiar curve of the leather against his back, and sighed as he sank down. Gladio took the other seat.

“Let's just get some fuel and make for Lestallum.” His head thumped against the back of the seat.

“We should try to check in with Cor, too.” Noct had already closed his eyes. “For now, let's just get the hell out here before the Niff army crawls their way back here.”

Prompto didn't want to think about the Niff army. He just wanted to sleep and thank his lucky stars that he'd come out of this none the worse for wear.

His ears were still ringing as he let himself drift, and if his hand slid to cover his middle in his sleep, nobody said anything.

* * *

Nobody said anything for a while, at least not loud enough to wake Prompto.

When Prompto did come to, they were at a gas station. Gladio was gone, and Ignis was in the passenger seat with his eyes closed. Noctis was propped against the car, watching the fuel cost tick up. He swore a little, shaking his head. “Gonna need to scrounge up some more funds.”

“We that bad off?” Prompto squinted over at the tank topped off and winced at the total. “Guess we are now.”

“It's fine. The car needs gas. _Que sora, sora_. Going back to Lestallum can wait one more day, one good hunt'll probably do the trick.” Noct's eyes were hooded as he turned to a nearby squat building next to the convenience store. “I saw one of Dave Auburnbrie's guys at that diner. I'll see if he's got some work for us.” Noct pushed himself off the side of the car. “Gladio's hit the head, but you should go get a drink. Here.” Noct gave him a few coins out of his pocket, then strolled away.

He hadn't seemed to be in a talking mood. Prompto didn't want to turn a not-talking mood into an angry-yelling mood. He kept his head low, bought his bottled kale-apple smoothie without looking at Gladio as he left the bathroom, and returned to the car.

Ignis was awake when Prompto returned, and he switched places with Noct before they left without exchanging a word about it. Noct did say, “Should be a caravan near Keycatrich we can hit up for the night, and do the hunt in the morning.”

“Sounds like an acceptable plan.” Ignis took off eastbound, and for a while, nobody said anything.

Prompto tried to make conversation as he roused, asking about Ravus, but everyone seemed tense about it. “Scraping for power,” Noctis had grumbled. “If he wants power, I'll give him a taste.” Gladio huffed like an impatient horse bucking at the bridle, and Prompto shrank down in case he did let loose the temper he was obviously restraining.

Prompto felt like the wrong word would set off an explosion. It really put him off the idea of talking. Instead, he took pictures out of his side of the car and kept quiet. The tension was making him feel sick, making his head heavy and his stomach twist into knots, but he didn't dare try and break it for fear of the rebound.

He kept quiet as the sun set, as they drove into a shady grove to find a caravan near an old convenience store. Ignis went in to use the kitchenette to make something for dinner as Gladio stoked a little fire, and Prompto tried to relax in the knowledge that for today, he was safe. They were making progress, inch by inch. The radio had said that the Imperial Army was getting short on supplies, and they'd had to take down some of the blockades. Maybe that would give them some way to get to Altissia.

He wouldn't have to balance on this tightrope too much longer. He just had to stay quiet where it counted and hope he still had friends at the end.

“Prompto.” Suddenly, Ignis was there and tugging the collar of his vest, and it jerked him from his thoughts as sure as if he’d pinched him. “A word in here, if you please.”

Noctis glanced up from his phone screen, scowling, though the low light off of the screen made him look more like he was pouting. “Hey, you can talk in front of me.”

Prompto didn't have to look to _feel_ Ignis’ sharp look directed at Noct reverberating in his tones: “This is a private conversation between Prompto and myself.”

Gladio whistled. “Best let ‘em go, Noct. If Iggy's talking to him, shit must be serious.” Then, he made a whipcrack gesture and imitated the _crack_ with a click of tongue and teeth. “Go easy on ‘im, Iggy!”

Ignis didn’t dignify Gladio with a response, instead tugging on his collar again, a little harder. Prompto swallowed and got up, following as Ignis led him into the caravan kitchen. He'd cooked inside to make use of the tiny stove, so the space smelled like soup and peppers. Any other night, it would have smelled wonderful, but between the heaviness in Prompto’s head, the nausea still swirling in his gut, and the tension anew in his heartstrings at Ignis’ harsh expression, that sharp, acrid scent was only making things feel surreal. Ignis had several boxes laid out on the tiny dinette table and the benches, and Prompto quickly recognized their first aid supplies from the Armiger spread out on display.

“I was doing inventory in preparation for our restock visit to Lestallum,” Ignis said, explaining the mess with a wave of his hand. “I need to know what we need, after all. However, I noticed something of a discrepancy.” He pointed at one box, one which Prompto knew well. “You have used only five needles. You should have used nine by now. Prompto, please tell me you’re not reusing them.”

Prompto swallowed thickly, but shook his head. “No, um, I’m not.” Ignis just furrowed his brow more, as Prompto searched for some way out of this conversation, because he had a bad feeling about where continuing not to lie would lead him and he wasn’t ready to go there yet. “I … I just … My T …”

“Precisely.” Ignis leaned a little closer and spoke a little softer. “You need it, don’t you? To maintain your…” Ignis trailed off, and Prompto realized he was studying him, sharp eyes roving his face. “You … you look different.” He touched Prompto’s cheek. “ _Softer_.”

“Um.” Prompto flinched even at the gentle touch. “I… I…"

All this time he'd wanted Ignis' attention, kind words, loving touches, even just a loving look, and now that he had it, all he wanted was to run. Ignis was staring. There was no escape.

“I … started rationing my T.” Prompto hung his head. “I thought I was gonna run out, after Insomnia and all, so I did the math on what I had, figuring if I could stretch it for six months instead of three, I could sorta keep up the maintenance dose and if there were any differences, it’d at least be gradual…”

“Prompto!” Ignis groaned and grabbed hold of his shoulders. “You can’t make such decisions without medical advisement!” He tore his hands off of Prompto and dusted them as if to keep himself from throttling him - or because he was just so disgusted, he didn’t want to touch him.

“I’m sorry. I just … I didn’t want to cause a problem ‘cause of my medicine.” Prompto wished he could sink into the ground and drown in the mud, but Ignis fixed his glasses and motioned to Prompto’s duffel bag on the fold-out bed.

“It's in your bag, yes? Retrieve it. I’m going to give you your proper dosage, and I will ensure you continue to receive your hormone regulation therapy as prescribed.”

Prompto’s heart sank. “I can’t.”

Ignis went rigid and wide-eyed. “I beg your pardon?”

They were alone. He was as good as found out. He hadn’t thought he could keep his secret forever, and he’d never wanted to in the first place.

“I had to stop.” Prompto shook his head, balling his fists, already trembling at knowing exactly where this conversation was going. “I took a few of the small doses, but, um, then there was a problem, and…”

Ignis went pale. “Love, what is it? Why are you only now - you could have said something. Is it -”

“I had a cycle, okay?” The words were half-chewed jerky in his mouth, and Prompto had to spit it out, no matter how sick it made him. “My first one ever.”

“Oh.” Ignis’ shoulders sank, and Prompto could see him doing the math in his head. “I… and you handled it alone.”

“No, you were there.” Prompto cringed, bracing himself for what he had to say next. “And that’s the problem. Iggy, I said I had a cycle. I didn’t have a period.” Prompto shuffled his feet nervously as Ignis’ eyes just went wider and wider. “I just started puking and feeling faint and - I was scared and -” Prompto’s voice broke, and he gripped his scalp for a second, then forced himself to look into Ignis’ face, and suddenly, he couldn't hold it back anymore: “Igs, you never asked about the clinic, and it’s been over a month! I didn’t know how to tell you, but I’m -”

“Oh, _Six_.” Ignis clapped a hand over his mouth as the weight behind Prompto's words hit before he got them out, and Prompto trembled in shock. He’d never seen Ignis caught flat-footed, never seen him outright shocked by something. Not like this. “You’re pregnant.”

“Yup.” Prompto winced and fidgeted, ducking his head down. “So, um, yeah. Stopped the T, the second I found out.”

Ignis staggered a step back as Prompto had slapped him, then moved some of their supplies aside so he could sink onto the bench, knees coming out from under him. “You’re pregnant,” he repeated. “You’re - as in, a human life. In your body.”

“Y… yeah.” Prompto lifted his shirt a little to show off the tiny mound at his navel. “They’re kinda there.”

“Six.” Ignis pulled his glasses off and scrubbed his face with his hand. “And… it’s mine.”

“It’s only ever been you. You're the only person I've ever been with.” Prompto yanked his shirt back down and folded his hands over the tiny little bump. “So, ‘less there was some sorta miracle, they’re definitely yours.”

Ignis suddenly went liquid paper white and jerked his head up to stare into his face. “You keep saying they.”

“Oh! Um, ‘they’ is gender neutral, that's all. It's too soon to know, y'know? If it’s more than one, the doctor sure as heck didn’t tell me.” He hesitated, then mumbled, “There was only one heartbeat.”

“ _Astrals_.” Ignis dragged his fingers through his hair, mind obviously blown. Prompto had no idea Ignis could swear this many oaths, let alone in so short of a period. Then, he composed himself in an instant and with a single word: “Alright.” He stood up all at once and put his glasses back on, along with his business face. The one he wore when he was about to butcher a fowl carcass, or when he was coming up with a particularly good strategy to cut down the attacking daemons. “This can still be salvaged. Prompto, you don’t need me to tell you that the timing on this is exceptionally bad, but we are fortunately returning to Lestallum the day after tomorrow. We can consult a qualified doctor there and, with any luck, it won’t be too late to easily, painlessly -”

The assumption left Prompto’s mouth as if he’d been punched in the gut and spat it out on the rebound: “Kill them?”

Ignis’ face twitched with pain, or maybe with sadness, but Prompto didn’t want to pretend. “Safely terminate. I’m afraid there’s little choice here. We’re in danger every day. A traumatic miscarriage will be much more painful than a simple medical procedure.”

“But I’ll be careful!” Prompto wrung his hands. “I’ve been super careful! I'm trying to keep them safe, I’ve been staying back in fights and still doing my best to help, you know how good of a shot I am! I’ll get a sight and go further back!”

“Prompto, the recoil on a larger caliber weapon will be just as risky. Your incident with that sonic blaster should have told you how dangerous that can be.” Ignis shook his head sternly. “The audible register on such a weapon, as well - you’re as likely to deafen the thing, if the vibrations don’t cause some form of trauma!”

 _Thing_. Prompto was about to puke all over Ignis’ polished boots and he probably wouldn’t have the composure left to apologize after that. Their baby was just a _thing._ “I’ve been alright so far! Please, I’m doing alright, I’m trying to keep up -” He flinched at the memory of his last run with Gladio - _falling behind, chocobutt!_ \- not to mention everything else he'd said! - “I’m still helping protect Noct-”

At this, Ignis scoffed and folded his arms. “How can you protect Noctis when you’re putting so much thought into protecting yourself?”

Prompto hadn’t seen Ignis infuse his daggers with ice or even get them out, but he sure as hell felt it when Ignis jabbed one through his chest with those words.  “I… No, no, I… Noctis comes first, but I -”

“You said enough. Noctis comes first.” Ignis pressed his hand to his chest. “My duty to Noctis is my life, and you dedicated yourself to the same. I’ve had to put my personal desires on the back burner, at best. Just the same, if you are dedicated to Noctis, your own interests are secondary, if not tertiary.” Ignis’ brow wrinkled into a sneer. “If you are truly committed to our mission, then you know what the correct choice is here.”

Prompto took a deep breath, then let it out. Somehow, having Ignis reject him outright was easier than anything else, and knowing that he couldn’t salvage this meant he wouldn't have to try. “Maybe. But that’s just the thing. It’s _my_ choice.” He lowered his eyes. “I _chose_ to come with Noctis when he invited me. I _chose_ to try and fix my medicine instead of bothering you with it. When I found out about the baby, I _chose_ to keep them. And if - or when - it looks like I can’t keep up, if I’m getting in your way, then I’ll _choose_ to leave.”

That put the ice and fire in Ignis’ gaze. “The Empire likely knows your face now. You would face them alone?!”

“It's a risk I'm willing to take. Better than your idea, anyway.” Prompto fidgeted with his old leather wristband. “I look Niff, anyway. They'll likely think I'm a defector. If you'd like, I could try to get 'em off your scent! I’ll make one helluva decoy, won’t I?” He grinned at his own little spark of inspiration, and Ignis’ anger turned into shock. “Yeah, they probably won’t kill a pregnant person, right? I lead 'em the wrong way for as far as I can run, give you guys a good chance to evade them. They'll probably capture me, at worst, and lock me up when they realize I'm not important.” He hung his head and smiled wryly to himself. “I’m sure I can survive being a prisoner of war. Noct’ll get his mission done before long, I know he will with you helping him.”

Ignis tried to wind up again, “You fool, do you really think-”

“It’s okay.” Prompto's smile knocked the air out of Ignis’ sails. “Look, I told you ‘cause you had me dead to rights. I had meant to way before now, but I hadn’t figured out how, and then I realized it probably didn't matter whether or not I told you. Maybe I shouldn't've.” Prompto rubbed a hand over his middle. “Thing is, I figured you wouldn’t want to be tethered to someone like me. It’s been nice, though. Nobody’s ever loved me before, really, or at least made me feel like they did. I mean, Noct, but that’s more like a brother, right? For a while, it felt nice knowing you wanted me.” He couldn’t look at Ignis, didn’t dare. “But I didn’t ask you to want this, and I can’t make you. It’s my body, my baby, and my decision. You don’t have to support my decision, my kid, or me.” He smoothed his shirt down one more time and put a smile on. “I won't be your problem anymore. I won't get in your way, either. Just don’t poison my food or anything, okay? I don’t think you’d actually try it, but if you try to make me lose the baby and it kills me instead, I’ll totally haunt you.”

“Prompto!” Ignis shouted as Prompto pivoted for the door, but Prompto pretended not to hear him. Instead, Prompto jogged out and down the stairs from the caravan, ignoring Noctis’ raised eyebrow and Gladio’s appraising look.

“You good, kid?” Gladio looked him up and down once, and Prompto forced a cheerful smile.

“Yeah, fine. Look, I’m just gonna take a walk around the perimeter of the Haven, okay? If I don’t get back before dinner, just…  if there’s any left, just wrap it for me, please?”

“Sure, along with all my carrots,” Noctis volunteered, giving him a thumbs up. “Just walk whatever Specs said off, alright?”

“Thanks, dude.” Prompto chuckled, then kept walking until the warmth from their fire faded from his back.

He hitched back the tears he’d been straining against, the pain welling through his chest, and he kept walking.

He forced back the mental image of the hate, the derision he’d seen in Ignis’ face, and kept walking.

He walked until he got to the edge of the light and the eerily glowing runes that marked the boundary of safety, then let himself fall to his knees, out of breath, and then the hyperventilating started as he finally let it all hit him.

If Ignis had ever loved him, he didn’t now. Being alone in this was no longer a fear, but guaranteed. Having to leave Noct behind was basically going to happen, as sure as a prophecy. At least he could be sure of things, but Six, he hated all of it.

“It’s… for you, though.” He put a hand over his little tiny belly, hitching back sobs. “I’ll do anything for you, baby. You’ve got me, and I’ve got you, so even when I… even when they throw me away… we won’t be lonely.” Saying it aloud made it feel painfully untrue, and he doubled over into himself again as his heartbreak manifested as an ache in his chest that made him feel like a collapsing star. He curled around the baby in his belly and let himself cry.

For a few seconds, he could swear there was a shadow cast over his, but he didn’t dare face it. If it were the daemons, he’d deal with it, just like everything else.

But it wasn’t. The light shone over him again, and in the aftermath of his undoing, Prompto cried himself to sleep in the dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene with Ignis confronting Prompto and Prompto confessing was the first scene I actually wrote out as I was getting the idea together. 
> 
> For those of you in pain... Hang in there!!


	9. Take Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto tries to move on in the aftermath of his confrontation with Ignis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy some of you nice folks got awful upset about the last chapter OwO" I thought I'd best not keep you all waiting for more for too long!
> 
> This chapter features some art I commissioned from a friend of a friend, [GayPrinceDio](https://twitter.com/ilovetentacles). I just loved the scene so much I couldn't resist getting some art of it, and I hope you all appreciate it too!

**9\. Take Care**

“ … Prompto? Hey, Prompto?” Noctis was crouched over him, Prompto knew his voice with his eyes shut tight. He blinked one open to realize it was daylight. Oh no, if Noct was up, then Prompto had really overslept.

“I’m awake.” Prompto brushed a hand over the shadow on his face, then rolled from where he’d been curled up on his side to his back. His guts sloshed, and he had to swallow twice - he didn’t have his anti-nausea medication on him, _damn_. “Lemme get up slow, falling asleep like that was a really, really bad idea.”

“No kidding.” Noctis had been crouched over him, but sighed as he lowered himself to sit cross-legged next to him. “What happened? You get attacked? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Uh, no - um, yeah - I'm fine.” Prompto fidgeted and ducked Noctis’ gaze. “I was running laps around the edge, and I thought I saw a garula in the grasses past here, so I sat down to try and wait for a good photo op, but I guess I kinda exhausted myself, so I blinked one too many times and poof, here I am sleeping on the ground.” 

“Six, you’re hopeless.” Noctis chuckled. “Did’ja at least get the shot?”

Prompto grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, I kinda fell out before I got a good shot. Next time, right?” Astrals, he was glad Noctis was buying this. He must have thought Prompto was exactly airheaded enough to do that.

“Sure, but you gotta be careful. Specs waited up for you to come back ‘til the witching hour.” Noctis pulled a face. “I told him, you’re that worried, you should go after him, but he just muttered something about seeing if you’d come back on your own.”

Prompto’s insides went cold. “Oh. Well…”

“Hey, what’d he say to you?” Noctis put a hand on his shoulder. “Was he giving you some crap about you passing out at the base or something? That wasn't your fault.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Prompto forced himself to his feet, ignoring the bile swishing around his stomach. “Let’s get back before he really does decide to chase us down.”

“Yeah, I don’t want whatever scolding he’s got up his sleeve if that goes down.” Noctis rolled his eyes, then punched Prompto in the arm. “C’mon, race ya to breakfast!” He set off running without so much as a ‘ready, steady, go’ and Prompto made himself chase after him.

Prompto had to stop to puke bile and acid thirty seconds in, but Noctis was already cheating by warping anyway. Thank the Six for Noct being kind of a jerk.

When he got back, Noct was already chowing down on a bowl of rice porridge, and Gladio was on his second. Ignis was doing the washing with two bowls of porridge waiting on the fold-out work table. He glanced over his shoulder as Prompto stumbled back in, but it was Gladio who hailed him. “There you are.” He sounded grouchy still, but calmer than the day before. “So, Noct said you were trying to get a good picture and -?”

“Fell asleep in the dirt, yeah.” The lie tasted worse than anything else in his mouth, and that was saying something. “Guess I’m picking up that stupid ‘can sleep anywhere’ thing from Noct.” He lightly punched Noctis in the shoulder as he sank down into his camp chair. “Guess we’re packin’ up after breakfast?”

“Yeah,” Noctis answered, and shoveled in another bite before motioning to the porridge on the table. “Go on and get some, you didn’t eat dinner last night.”

“If you should be unsatisfied with breakfast,” Ignis interjected, and Prompto jumped at his terse, stiff tones, but forced himself still as Ignis finished, “there is a plate of leftovers in the Armiger's cooler for you.”

“Oh.” Prompto didn’t know what to say to Ignis, what else there was to say, and his voice came out broken and flat. “That sounds, um, great. Thanks. Uh, think I’ll start with breakfast, though.” The rice porridge was likely plain, and his stomach was still twisting itself in knots. Still, he knew he needed to eat, so he crept over to Ignis’ station as if clumsy little him had any chance of going unnoticed. Ignis didn’t even glance at him as he took the untouched bowl, and Prompto kept his head low and his eyes down.

_Don’t think about him,_ he told himself as he settled back in the chair. _Think about the baby, the baby is hungry, the baby needs to eat._ He couldn’t imagine the shame Ignis would lay on him if he failed now after grandstanding the night before - and there he was thinking about him again. Prompto’s guts twisted, and he forced himself to focus on the porridge. It was looking too much like his own sick, but he had to eat, he  _had to_ eat. Noctis, meanwhile, was joking around with Gladio:

“So, enjoying a few more _grains_ of wisdom? All things considered, you could probably use a few.”

“Hey, as long as you don’t _pilaf-er_ my breakfast, you can call me dumb all you want.” Gladio's retort was half-hearted, but he took a few more bites as Noctis grinned.

“Nothing to get all _steamed_ up over.” He glanced over to the work table and Ignis’ ramrod-straight back. “Right, Iggy?” Ignis was silent. Prompto was still turning his spoon over in the bowl, wishing he had any more appetite than he did. Noctis leaned forward towards Ignis. “Nothing, Igs?”

Ignis was tight-lipped a moment longer, then, “No. Apologies.”

“Oh. Huh.” Noctis tipped his head, clearly a little disappointed. Prompto grimaced, then strained the boundaries of rice jokes.

“Um… Don’t… be… sticky?” He forced a grin, and Noctis sighed.

“Yeah, you’re obviously not feeling it either. I guess your brain's… _fried_.” He hopped up with his empty bowl. “Fine, enough dumb jokes, I’ll go start packing our stuff up so we can get on the move for Lestallum.”

Gladio groaned as he stood, stretching his limbs. “Hell yeah. One more hunt on the way, and we’ll be good to restock, hole up at the Leville for a few days, and figure out where to go from there.”  

“The Regalia could use a tune-up, too,” Noctis remarked, working around Prompto where he sat, turning his porridge over in his bowl, the spoon hitting the edge with a clink. He dug the spoon in and lifted it towards his mouth, fingers shaking, but as soon as he got close, his gag reflex kicked in and he dropped it back in. _Clink._ Noctis didn’t seem to notice, chattering idly. “Maybe we can call Cindy, have her meet us there to pick it up.”

“Yeah,” Gladio agreed, and Prompto noticed him looking pointedly at Ignis for any sort of contribution. None was forthcoming, and Gladio snorted and looked to Prompto. “Be nice to see her again, huh?”

“Huh?” It took a second for what he’d said to fall into place in his head, for him to realize Gladio was trying to get an answer out of him, and he nodded. “Oh, yeah. It’s been a while! Sure be nice to see if she’s gotten any prettier.”

Ignis scoffed, head low, and Gladio chuckled. “Well, absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. Hopefully it’s not a multiples factor, since zero times anything...”

“Ha! Haha.” Prompto hated the way it sounded when he made himself laugh. This was miserable. “Yeah, funny, funny. Keep up the ‘nobody likes Prompto’ jokes, wouldn't want me to get a big head.” He turned his spoon over again, the metal hitting the bowl with another clink, and suddenly, Ignis slammed his hand on the work table.

“Eat, damn you! It’s not poisoned!”

Gladio and Noctis both froze as Ignis whipped around on Prompto where he was curled in the chair, porridge in his lap. Prompto nearly dropped the bowl, but grabbed it tight and grabbed the spoon again. Ignis was trembling with rage. Prompto had never seen this side of him, and for all his bravado facing down goblins, garulas, or gigantuars, he found himself shaken to his core by the anger of the man he still loved. He shoved the spoon into his mouth, then mechanically forced himself to eat, bite after bite. His stomach resisted, twisting with every mouthful, but he’d do anything if Ignis would stop looking at him like he'd just scraped him out of the grease trap. He heard Noctis asking what had gotten into him, heard Gladio scoff, but he kept staring straight into the middle distance, some unknowable point on the horizon, and forced himself to eat.

He emptied the bowl and put it in the wash water, and went to take the rag. Ignis seized his wrist, and Prompto swore Ignis was pressing in on the underside, hard. “Stop.” He bit the word off sharply. “I’ll deal with this. Go pack.”

“Of course.” Prompto couldn’t make his usual cheerful act happen, but he managed to keep his voice from cracking or rising. “Thank you for breakfast, Ignis.”

Ignis stilled for a second, then resumed vigorously washing the dishes without another word. Prompto pivoted, tearing his eyes away, and marched for the caravan. “Just gonna get the dirt out of my hair and then I’ll get packing,” he announced, but there was already water in his throat, and he knew where this was going. _This_ , more specifically, meaning his breakfast. He stumbled his way into the bathroom stall in the caravan and retched into the sink. _There goes that_ , he thought ruefully as he washed the mess down the drain. “Sorry, baby,” he whispered, running his palm over his middle. “We’ll eat later, I promise. Y’know, when you might let me keep it down.”

When Prompto came out of the caravan, pulling off a reasonable facsimile of ‘refreshed,’ he overheard Gladio on the far side of the campsite, propped against the side of the Regalia with his arms crossed as Ignis stowed their equipment in the trunk: “What the hell went down between you and Prompto last night?”

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You fucking liar.” Gladio pounded his fist on the side wall. “Look, whatever it is, I don’t care, but don’t you dare let this get in the way of our duty to Noct. Either kiss and make up or get over yourself enough to talk to him civil. What you said the other day is just as true for you and him as it is for me and him: Noct doesn’t need to deal with friction between us. There’s too much riding on this road trip.”

“Hmph.” Ignis’ eyes narrowed, and Prompto grimaced, then deliberately yawned loudly as he approached so they’d stop talking about him and he wouldn’t have to eavesdrop any more.

“Sorry I took so long! Can I help?”

Ignis ignored him. Gladio twisted his neck to glower at Ignis, then grabbed Prompto’s bag. “Nah, Iggy here’s got the car, see? Go on and fold the chairs and bring ‘em over. We’ll be on the move soon.”

“Okay.” He bit his lip. “Can I drive? It’s been a while since I had a turn. I gotta pull my weight, and all.”

“No.” Ignis answered rather than Gladio, but Gladio heaved a sigh and slapped Ignis on the back.

“Yeah, gonna agree with the Igster here." Ignis gave Gladio an irritable grimace, which Gladio ignored. "You look dog tired, we don’t need to get driven off the road today.”

“Sure.” Prompto tried not to look too crestfallen as he returned to clearing up the campsite.

Ignis didn’t look at him once through the whole conversation. Prompto tried to resign himself to being fine with that.

The drive was long and nearly silent, other than the wind blowing past the Regalia, the hum of the engine, Gladio flipping through his novel, Noctis’ soft snoring. Prompto fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable with silence that forced him to acknowledge the running monologue in his own head, _he hates you, he hates you, they’re all going to hate you._ When Noctis roused between naps, Prompto tried to make conversation. “What’s the hunt?”

“Just a couple garula. Four.” Noctis smirked as he stretched and roused. “Maybe you'll get another shot at the one you missed last night.”

“Yeah?” It took Prompto a second to remember his earlier lie, but he laughed in time. “Different kind of shot now, but I'll take it. I'm guessing that hunter wants steaks.”

Gladio chuckled. “So do I. Hey, maybe if we're up to it, we take out an extra, just for us.”

“Four and a bonus? Might be a lot of trouble for a cookout.” Noctis hummed, pretending to think. “I see no downsides, they're usually pretty easy hunts. Let's go for it.”

“Sure,” Prompto agreed automatically, as if his say-so meant anything. Ignis said nothing. Ignis hadn't said word two since Prompto had come back into his proximity. Prompto swallowed, but resigned himself to hearing a lot less of his voice from now on.

They parked near familiar grounds where they'd seen garulas before and stalked their way through the plains, Gladio and Noct quietly bantering as they ventured forth. Ignis was still virtually silent unless addressed directly. Prompto just didn't feel like talking, and forcing it if he didn't have to might just draw attention to it. Like a cat with a limp, he tried to hide his pain under a blank smile and his nonchalant stride.

Then, they found garulas, three of them. Two garula, one garulessa. Ignis and Noct traded glances as they approached. “Okay,” Noct whispered as they gathered up in a tuft of grass near the clearing. “Gladio, flank left. Specs, flank right. Prompto, maintain position and aim for the heads, but use defensive fire to keep them from running. I'll open with a warp strike on the big one. Move.”

Gladio began to creep up along the side of the clearing, Noctis vanished, but instead of following orders, Ignis seized Prompto. “Get back.”

Prompto's heart slammed into his ribcage. “What?”

“Stay out of the way!” Ignis shoved Prompto, pushing him away as he bolted to take his position. Noct appeared just then, stabbing down into the garula from above. The beast bellowed, Ignis and Gladio barreled in to strike the other two, and the fight was on.

Prompto drew his gun, aimed, and waited for his shot. As soon as Noct had tipped one over, he felt opportunity strike like a chime had gone off. “Oh, hi there, opening!” He fired off the whole chamber right between its eyes. Instead of taking the hint and dying, the garula just got mad and threw Noct off. Noct yelled and warped back.

“Gonna need more than that!”

Gladio piled on as he threw the one he was fighting back. “Your peashooter ain't jack against hide like that!”

Prompto swore, then circled the clearing, providing strafing fire to keep any of them from running as he ran through his options in his head. Ignis managed to down the garulessa, then whipped around on Prompto. “What do you think you're doing?!”

Prompto remembered the circle saw he'd swiped off of the Niff mech, and reached into the Armiger, whipped it out, and hollered: “Noct, gimme a boost!” Noct jumped back kneeling, but braced an arm parallel with the ground. Prompto used his arm as a step to leap high and revved the saw as he came down. He carved a deep jag through the bull's neck, and Noctis followed up by stabbing up through the jugular. Prompto jumped off before it could topple over, high-fiving Noctis on the landing.

“Nice moves.” Noctis smiled wryly. “You're covered in blood, though.”

Prompto winced at the sticky blood soaking his tank top. “It comes out. I hope Ignis got the good detergent.”

Noct cocked his head. “Ig _nis_? Jeez, Specs must've really ground your gears-”

“Hey, chocobutt, watch the acrobatics!” Gladio was already hauling up the first two carcasses. “Igs damn near had an aneurysm when you busted out that saw! You'll kill someone if you're not careful.”

Ignis came up from behind Gladio, wiping blood from his gloves, betrayed nothing with his tight expression. Prompto held his hands up and dismissed the saw back to the Armiger to clean later. “I'll save it for special occasions.”

“Hmph.” Ignis turned his attention to the last felled garula and walked past Prompto without looking at him. “Let's just dress this one before it attracts flies.”

Ignis and Gladio were surprisingly adept at flaying the beasts of their skin and field dressing each one so they could be packed in the Armiger for safekeeping until delivery. Prompto did what he could to help at Gladio’s direction, but carefully waltzed around Ignis, as Noctis scouted nearby for more. They had just finished with the third when Noctis returned in a blue warp flash.

“Found two more, solo this time. One’s 100 meters south by south-west, one’s about 175 meters north from there. Follow me.”

“One at a time?” Ignis eyed Prompto with scorn, but pulled his gloves back on. “Let’s not put ourselves in unnecessary danger.”

“Yeah, we don’t have enough potions to be careless.” Noctis pivoted around to lead the way as if he didn’t notice Ignis’ foul mood, and Prompto tried to smear some of the blood off of his front.

The rest of the hunt was fine, with Prompto keeping a wary distance and taking shots to make the garulas bleed out faster, but it was Gladio who took the first down, and Noctis, opening the onslaught with a massive burst of flame, took the second. Prompto was just happy to help, and as Gladio examined the hides after stripping them, he nodded with some satisfaction.

“Prompto, nice grouping. You actually did some real damage.”

“All in a day's work!” Prompto grinned and hummed a little victory tune as he wiped the blood off of Ignis’ field knife and put it back with the kit.

“And hey, even if you did scare Iggy, that saw thing was damn impressive.” Gladio chuckled as he cleaned his blade off and put the hide and his weapons away. Ignis huffed, an annoyed little sound, as Gladio added, “Maybe you're not totally useless.”

Prompto winced. “Sure. Guess not.” He looked down, only to see blood all down his front. Gross. “I'm not allowed in the car like this, am I?”

“Don't be ridiculous.” Ignis, to Prompto’s surprise, barked back the answer. “We've all been in worse states. Consider it our good fortune that the Regalia is stain-proof.” He shot Prompto a harsh look. “Did you think I'd make you _walk_?”

Prompto shrugged. “If it's what you wanted, it's cool. I’d understand, I wouldn't want me in the car like this. I know where the outpost and camp are, I could run.”

Prompto thought he saw Ignis shudder, and had to look twice. Did Ignis just flinch?

“Nobody's walking back to camp.” Noctis dusted his hands. “We can wash and do laundry at camp, but let's turn the meat in and get our own cookout going.” Noctis shot Ignis a wolfish look, grinning with all his teeth. “I'm thinking steaks. Big cuts.”

Ignis rolled his eyes as Noct began to lead them away. Prompto decided he'd imagined the flinch as he followed behind Noct. He also definitely imagined Ignis softly, so softly, calling his name.

* * *

Prompto never thought he'd be this grateful for a camper. The shower stall was as tiny as every other caravan shower stall had been and he had to go last, but it had running hot water, and that was all that mattered. He pulled on some clean clothes and emerged into the fire light carrying the dirty ones. Ignis already had the laundry basin filled, and stood aside to let Prompto shove his bra down deep and separate the rest of the pile. 

Then, Ignis grabbed something out of his clothes, and Prompto flinched. “What is that?”

For a second, Prompto couldn't look - was Ignis going to show the others his bra and out him? Just tell Noct he hadn’t told him he was _defective_ so Noct would kick him out? When Prompto looked, though, Ignis had pinched the collar of his armor and lifted it out from the rest, face soft and baffled.

“Oh. Um. Body armor.” He patted his chest. “Friendly extra layer, y’know? I just wanted to get the blood off of it.”

Gladio and Noct were staring. “You got yourself armor?”

“Since when?”

“The last time we were in Lestallum, I guess?” Prompto fidgeted. “Not all of us can warp or have years of training in blocking hits or dodging or just back flipping out of danger, and I got a lot of squishy bits in here I'd rather keep unmolested, so…” He shrugged as he trailed off. “It made sense. It's not crazy heavy, so it only slows me down a little.”

“Dude. You bought it on the sly?” Noctis was scowling. Prompto bit his lip and dodged his gaze.

“It's embarrassing how much I suck next to you guys. I couldn't ask.” He dug a hand into his hair, wringing at the damp strands. “Dinner's still cooking, right? I'm gonna go clean my guns and stuff.”

Prompto dodged all of their gazes, especially Ignis’ unusually soft stare, and set up a lantern on the table so he could take his pistol apart. He'd gotten quick about it, when he was focusing, and it was nice to focus on something other than his friends, who were probably all thinking of more reasons to ditch him by the second. He listened for any warnings at the edge of his hearing, but all he heard was Noct playing King's Knight with Gladio, taunting him as Gladio playfully threatened retribution. He could hear the meat sizzling over the fire. Ignis spoke to Noctis in the undercurrent of mundane noises, mentioning that they needed to get supplies while they were at a station.

That reminded Prompto of something else: his medicines. He finished cleaning his gun, cleared and set the table, then went to dig his medicine bottles out of his duffel in the camper. He peeked into each one - nausea meds were okay, the migraine breakers were low, prenatal vitamins -

“Dinner.” Prompto jumped when he heard Ignis at the door, but clutched the bottles close to keep from spilling them. Ignis stared at him, the same soft, impassive, blank look as before. If he'd softened at all, Prompto was sure he was imagining it, like he'd imagined so many things.

“Um. Sure.” He tried to catch his breath, as if he'd not been caught off-guard. “I'll be there in a…” He trailed off as he realized Ignis was approaching him.

“What are those?”

“Full'a questions tonight, huh?” Prompto tried to smile at his own joke as his voice went flat. “Just some OTC medicine. Don't worry about it.”

Ignis’ expression subtly hardened, and he removed one of the bottles from Prompto's arm, and Prompto heard him inhale. “Anti-nausea?”

“I kept puking. It kept delaying us leaving in the mornings. I did something about it. It's better than it was the first week or so, right?” Prompto avoided looking at Ignis. “Same with those headaches I kept getting. I was slowing us down. I took care of it. Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to-” Prompto heard the bite of Ignis’ rage in crescendo and swiped his medicine out of his hands.

“Yup! Nothing for you to worry about! Taking care of myself! Staying out of your way!” As he tried to hop-skip-jump through the narrow space to get past Ignis and escape, he dropped one of the bottles. He yelped as it shattered at his feet, and his vitamins scattered everywhere. “Shit!” He dropped down to his knees began scooping them up, but Ignis grabbed his hand.

“Stop! There's glass.”

Prompto knew. He could feel it biting the side of his palm. He still didn’t dare look at Ignis. “It's fine. I've got it. I'll come eat once I clean this up.”

“Prompto.”

Prompto was imagining the sadness he heard in Ignis’ voice. Pure imagination. His mind was sparing him the anger, and he shut his eyes tight so he wouldn’t even think of meeting Ignis’ eyes. “I'm sorry I broke it. I'll clean up my own mess.”

“Specs? Prompto?” Noctis stuck his head in. “Are you com-” He took in the mess on the floor, blinking back surprise. “Hey, what happened?”

Prompto was getting used to lying now: “I was counting my migraine pills and dropped the bottle. I was just saying, I've got the cleanup.” Prompto put on a smile for Noctis, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ignis picking up the largest chunk of the bottle, the part held together by the label. He saw Ignis read and mouth the words to himself, _“prenatal vitamins?”_ He managed not to cringe as Noctis shook his head.

“You sure you don't need a hand?”

“M'good.” Prompto shook his head, then gingerly took the piece of broken bottle from Ignis. “Let me just get the dustpan.”

Ignis schooled his features as he handed Prompto the dustpan and broom, then followed Noctis out. Prompto turned around on the mess, all the pink pills spilled on the floor, and whimpered. For a second, he wanted to be angry at Ignis, but he hadn't done anything wrong but ask a question.

“It's all my fault. Of course. What's new?” He swept it up, searching out every pink pill or glass shard. He managed to find one pink pill left untarnished in the bottom of the bottle, and took it dry. At least they'd be back in Lestallum tomorrow. He could get more. He'd taken it in the morning, he could get more the next day and get back on schedule. The baby had survived the Naga and Deadeye. They’d live a few hours without the vitamins.

The others were about halfway done eating by the time Prompto was satisfied in his clean-up job. Gladio glanced up when he sat down without announcing himself. “You got all the glass, right?”

“Yeah, I was super thorough.”

“Good.” Gladio gave his shoulder a light punch. “Be more careful, will ya?”

“Sorry.” Prompto hung his head, and Gladio furrowed his brow.

“Accidents happen. Just, you know.” Gladio nudged him a little with his knuckles. “I sleep barefoot.”

“R-right.” Prompto nodded, then looked down at the steak and grilled vegetables on his plate. His appetite had already evaporated. He made himself eat it anyway. After all, he'd killed something today so he could eat. Celebrate surviving by eating something dead. He had to eat, even if every bite was like a mouthful of mud, because someone else needed it.

He finished last. Noctis was already asleep in his camp chair.  Gladio had gone into the caravan to read in better light. Ignis was finishing the last of the dishes when Prompto came with his plate. He reached for the dishrag, but Ignis put a hand over his wrist, his touch so gentle Prompto was sure he was imagining Ignis reaching for him at all.

“I'll finish the dishes. Go rest.”

Ignis wasn't getting soft on him. He was just as angry as before. Prompto was imagining any kindness or mercy out of him, his brain was playing tricks on him.

“I'm not tired. I can help. Please let me be useful.”

“That won't be necessary.” Ignis glanced sideways at him, eyes narrowed. “We... need to talk.”

Prompto winced and put his plate down. “We talked yesterday. It's okay. Everything's okay.”

“Prompto.”

“If you don't want my help, I'll leave you alone.” Prompto turned on his heel and strode away, bracing himself so he wouldn't break.

He stopped long enough to throw a space blanket over Noctis, then walked away from the fire. He sat on the ground at the edge of the firelight, then took his camera out.

“Happy memories,” he muttered to himself and someone who couldn't hear him yet. “I wonder if I'll have any more like this.” He turned the camera on in “review” mode. The first picture that came up was the oldest one on the memory card: him and Ignis, a sneaky kiss stolen in his little house in Insomnia. Prompto's chest welled with pain, and he slumped over. “Iggy…”

He was already exhausted after just one day after being cut off of _any_ affection. At least before, Ignis might touch his back, reassure him, curl up with him in the tent a few hours after he needed the hugs. That one touch Ignis hadn't meant was as close as he'd gotten, and that just made it worse. He felt sick, sick at heart and to his stomach. For all his bravado, all he was getting was a vague hope that someday, the effort would be worth it. Worth losing Ignis, worth the misery.

The images of the places they'd been together flicked by. Ignis smiling for his viewfinder in Lestallum, in a selfie with him and Gladio in a diner, Ignis doling out sandwiches stacked high with ham at the chocobo post. Ignis seemed to be in every shot, a wink of light in his eyes when he looked into Prompto's lens. “Y-you and me, we could go all these places me and your dad went someday. I can… I can tell you all about your dad. I'll tell you how loyal he was. How much I'll miss him…”

He wasn't going to give up. He knew what he had to do, what he would have to do eventually. He found himself looking towards the boundary of the haven, debating just doing it now. Running. Maybe he'd have it easier if he didn't have to ever really face what he'd done. He could run now, and they’d never miss him.

“Prompto?” Prompto froze when Ignis called him, certain he was imagining it for a second, until he saw his shadow cast over his shoulder by the firelight. He pretended to fidget with his camera, reviewing the pictures in storage again, just so he had some good reason not to turn around. He couldn’t trust what he’d do if he actually had to make eye contact with Ignis right now; he’d either vomit, cry, pull off some snotty, nasty combination of the two, or just crumble to dust. Ignis’ shadow didn’t falter as Prompto tried to pretend he were anywhere else. If anything, he seemed to loom closer. “Prompto. I… I know you can hear me. Will you please speak with me?”

Ignis wasn’t going away. Prompto inhaled, chest too tight, and made himself smile so he could try and force his usual cheer in his voice, but he still refused to look at him. “What can I do for ya, Ignis?”

Ignis made a strange, strangled noise: surprise, or maybe disgust. Prompto was betting hard on disgust right about now. He didn't sound disgusted when he spoke, at least. Just the usual, chilly, detached Ignis, with resignation creeping in the edge of his tones: “I… I had wanted to talk. Perhaps, to follow up on our previous conversation.”

“Y-yeah?” Prompto tried not to hear every word Ignis had spat at him the night before again, tried to pretend it was just a scab Ignis was picking at. Not bleeding yet. “Hey, look, I got it covered, okay? I told you, it's fine. I’ll deal with anything that comes up, and I’ll keep out of your way, and when I do get in the way, I’ll get out of the way. You don’t have to -”

“No, no, I do - I must - I…” Ignis sounded like he was choking. Prompto wished he could bear to look at him, if only so he could read his expression. “Please, permit me… I said some… some things I did not mean. Things I don’t intend.” Ignis paused, his shadow heavy on Prompto’s back. “I was unkind to you today. I’ve been… I’ve been thinking about… things, quite a lot of things. I was angry, first at you, but mostly at myself, and perhaps I’ve not comported myself the best as I’ve tried to negotiate that anger, but that’s no excuse. I offer my deepest apologies for my calumny today. I -” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

_Oh._ An apology. Prompto hadn’t expected an apology.

“Oh, um, it’s okay. I get that you were still angry, and it’s okay if you still are.” Prompto tried to chuckle. “I mean, come on, I know I messed up, when _don't_ I mess up…”

“Prompto, please don’t self-deprecate my apology into invalidity; I’m being as sincere as a person can.” Ignis hesitated, chewing on his words, and Prompto’s chest churned. “I - I’m not here for a mere apology. That is but a fraction of what I have to say, but please don’t think I am any less ingenuous for opening with that sentiment.” Prompto could faintly hear fabric rustling, Ignis twisting his gloved hands together. Was Ignis actually nervous about something? “I meant to apologize for… for neglecting you again. You've needed support that I've not given. I'm deeply sorry you've felt a need to keep your own counsel. How can I convince you to confide in me?”

“I'm fine,” Prompto lied. It came sickeningly easy. “Really, I get nobody's gonna care for me but me. I'm a big boy.”

“We should care for each other. We're comrades and… f-friends.” Ignis swallowed hard. “Please, don't hide your pain or worries from me. I only ever want to…” He hesitated. Prompto could hear his strained breathing. “I… I must address… The… the matter we discussed last night. I said some truly unforgivable things, and I -”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay, but Prompto had dealt with things that were not okay before. Ignis was clearly feeling guilty because Prompto wasn't hiding his hurt well enough, and Prompto didn't want that. He didn't need pity. “Look, I get it, this is kind of a bombshell. I wasn’t ready either.” He turned what felt like a sob in his lungs into a laugh. “I’m kinda lucky, I guess. I get to make this choice.” He felt something twisting in his belly, but he couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or… something Prompto couldn’t think about right now. “You never really did, not about what you’re doing now, and not about, well, me.” He found himself looking again at the selfies he’d taken of him and Ignis, of the others. Some cherry custards Ignis had made for Gladio’s birthday before they’d left, a candid of Ignis and Noctis reviewing some council documents, a selfie he took of all four of them at Hammerhead. Happy memories they’d shared.

Ignis had probably only been there because he had to be. Prompto was only there because he was invited, an invitation that Prompto had somehow always known would be rescinded.

“It’s like you said, your _duty_ to Noct is your life. Sure, you liked me, but Noct, well, he's above just _like_.” Prompto peered over his shoulder past Ignis to where Noctis was still soundly asleep, and smiled fondly. “I love Noct too, and I’d do anything for him, but at the end of the day, my life is just that, mine. You're his adviser. He's your prince. I made a promise, but you swore an oath.” His smile sank, and he lowered his face. “I'm a secondary, maybe even tertiary concern to you.” Ignis strangled another pained noise. Prompto knew he was throwing Ignis’ words back at him, but he hadn't expected Ignis to be so stricken by them. “No, it's okay, I get it. We were together, it was nice, but I knew Noct would have to come first someday. You can't take care of me and all my crap, Noct's way more important!” He forced a self-deprecating laugh, waving a hand like he could stop off his own anxiety. “I’m only here ‘cause I chose to follow Noct. You didn’t get a choice, because you already made it a long time ago. I feel like, maybe if you did have a choice, things could be different, but it’s not, and I’m just gonna have to live with it.”

“I-!” Ignis stammered, and Prompto squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He was definitely closer to crying than puking all of a sudden. Angry Ignis was easier than this, because at least angry Ignis just meant Ignis would wound him with cutting words and biting sarcasm. He had gotten better at tolerating those sorts of wounds after years taking them. He didn’t know what this was, or what sort of hurt could come from a wrong step here, but this was sending his anxiety through the roof and they were _outside_.

“You, um, sound upset.” Prompto tried to shrink down, head low, face towards the ground, back into his camera, unable to fathom facing Ignis. Instead, he kept his gaze down towards a photograph of the two of them standing on the dock in Galdin Quay, hours before the world had crumbled out from under them. “Please don't be upset. I'm not your problem anymore, so you don't have to worry. It’s okay, Ignis.”

“Iggy.”

Prompto felt that like a strike to the back. Ignis’ serene smile on his viewfinder made his heart cave, and any facade of the sturdiness he’d been pretending was about to break. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw Ignis trembling where he stood, a shaking hand futilely extended, emotionally devastated, wearing a face like he was drowning. “You’ve… you’ve called me Iggy practically since we met. It’s a term of endearment, isn’t it? All of your pet names for me are. You… you can still call me that… I want you to... I beg of you…” His voice got soft and thick like water was rising in his throat. “Prompto, I…”

“No.” Prompto shook his head and hugged his camera close. This was it, he was in critical and he was gonna have an actual emotional breakdown. He couldn't handle another hit right now. He almost wanted Ignis to just crush him like a cockroach in his kitchen, or just _stab him_ and get it over with and bury him in the dust, because that would be easier than dealing with another verbal assault. “No, please. I can’t. I’m so tired, I can't have another argument! Don’t … don’t…”

“Please permit me to try again.” Ignis folded his hands. “This is too important, please, let me try this conversation again!”

“Ig-”

 

[Art by GayPrinceDio](https://twitter.com/ilovetentacles)

“It’s a baby, Prompto!” Ignis dropped to his knees, hands clasped, and Prompto gasped as Ignis, sounding more and more shattered with every disjointed word, broke into a plaintive whisper: “It’s… it’s our child. I never thought anything like this would - but it’s happened, and…”

“I can’t kill them, please don’t make me!” Prompto shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Prompto, love, please hear me out!” Ignis, broken and wounded, actually made Prompto's heart shatter a little more. It was hard enough when Ignis rejected him outright, but pretending to care in order to convince him was so much worse. Still, Ignis sounded genuinely distraught and Prompto was compelled to listen. “ _Yes_ , my duty to Noctis comes first! But! Noctis… Noct…” Ignis’ mouth wobbled. “He would call me foolish for restraining myself from holding onto one of the best things I’ve had come into my life. I’d tear my own heart out if I even genuinely tried.” He shook his head and put his hands on the ground. “Prompto, _my love,_ my only, I’ve had time to think and I’ve found that for all the bloody logic I can come up with to justify saying what I thought I knew was right, none of it stands in the face of _you_ , and the fact that you’re carrying my child, and I was so wrong.” He lowered his head. “I apologize, from the depths of my very soul, that my foolishness wounded you.’

Prompto came up short. He was imagining this, he had to be imagining this, he was hallucinating. Ignis was _not_ on hands and knees, on the verge of tears. Not for _him_ . As if unaware of how impossible this was, Ignis smeared at his wet eyes, then clasped his hands in plea. “I'm not heartless. It sickened me to tell you we needed to end it. I was afraid at the thought of everything that could go wrong, I thought it better to spare you the risk! But… you're frightened too, and even so, you're brave enough to face this.” He tried in vain to dry his eyes, and Prompto wished he had a handkerchief or the nerve to wipe his eyes for him. “I was a coward, demanding we take the easier way out rather than facing the gauntlet in hopes we could gain something wonderful. The timing couldn’t be worse and I have nothing to offer you by way of safety or security, but if this is something you want, then I want it, too. I want _them_ , Prompto.” He lifted his head, and Prompto saw the tears still gathering in the corners of his eyes and splashed on his glasses, then clenched a hand over his heart. Prompto's heart clenched, too. “You said this decision was yours, and you’re right! I'm sorry I tried to force your hand or change your mind! Whatever decision you make, I will support you, but please let me be a part of our child’s life! They're mine, please let me take responsibility for the two of you! I want to take care of you!”

Prompto bit his lower lip, and tried to hold his breath to will back the emotions. “Ig… Iggy… I knew you were right, y’know?” He couldn’t keep the weakness from his voice, and pulled his knees in closer. “I know I’m being irrational. Stupid’s what I’m best at.”

“Please don’t say such things, darling.” Ignis scrabbled a little closer, itching to touch him but not yet daring. Like he didn't trust himself.

“It's true, though. I know you think I’m being silly, keeping them.” He put his palm over his middle. “I just … they’re getting big in here already, y’know? I heard them. I can feel them.” Ignis choked back another sad noise as Prompto looked down towards his navel. “I keep … I keep talking to them. I know they can’t hear me yet. I know they wouldn’t even know if I … ended them.”

“You don’t want to, though. You said as much.” Ignis shook his head. “I don’t want you to end it, either. I didn't before.”

Prompto shivered and folded his arms over his chest. “You were... pretty adamant about killing them.”

“And it made me sick! I thought we had no other viable choice. I didn’t even think about how such an action - such a _suggestion_ would hurt you.” Ignis hung his head, forehead nearly in the dirt, hands balled tight into fists. “I’ll never be able to forgive myself, nor apologize to you enough for trying to convince you that I truly wanted that.” Prompto shivered, as all the wrath and rage he’d thought had been leaking out from Ignis’ facade to stab at him came back, directed towards himself: “I frightened you!” His voice was a death rattle, a rough hiss, and Ignis dragged his hand down his face. “You thought - however briefly - that I might harm you in retaliation! I loathed myself at the very notion! I can’t live with myself, knowing that.” For a moment, Ignis looked seriously ill, elbows quaking as he strained to support his weight. “I never thought you'd consider leaving.”

Prompto shivered. “I thought you all would throw me out. I'm useless anyway, so -”

“You’re not! I would never reject you like that. Never. Not I, and Noctis would rather have you at his side rather than anywhere else. And Gladio - no, and even if he tried, he'd answer to Noctis and I.” Ignis folded his hands in plea again. “But this is more than that. You said you'd throw yourself to the Empire if you thought it meant a chance at keeping them. You’d choose the damned Empire over me because being a prisoner of war was more favorable a notion than an abortion!” He tore at his hair for a moment. “I tormented myself when you didn’t come back last night. You _ran_ from _me._ ” He shook his head. “I found you crying at the edge of the haven… I was so afraid you'd run I didn't dare speak to you for fear of spurning you over the edge… I can’t stand to look at myself knowing you would have willingly run into the night to protect our child from me! I don't want that!”

“Me neither,” Prompto said softly without meaning to, but Ignis was stricken deep by every syllable.

“I wasn't thinking of how badly my words could hurt you. I can only atone with everything I have and beg for another chance to say what I should have said.” He finally dared bridge the gap, and he crawled forward and took hold of both of Prompto’s hands. “Please, love, please, just say you’ll give me a chance to take care of you and this one. I’ll do anything to make it up to you, even if you can’t love me anymore.” His thumb slipped to touch the top of Prompto’s rounded little tummy. Prompto swore he could feel Ignis inhale as he made contact. “How… how many weeks are you?”

Prompto had to swallow hard around his heart where it was lodged in his throat. “Um… fourteen or fifteen probably. I started rationing my meds after Insomnia fell, and that was like four months ago now, and the doctor in Lestallum said the heartbeat sounded really strong, so…”

Ignis clasped both of Prompto’s hands again. “And you’ve been so brave. You’ve taken such good care of them, look at how they’re growing. May I touch?” Prompto bit the inside of his cheek, but nodded, and Ignis slipped one hand over his middle. His touch felt like a balm, like a potion over a bad scrape, and Prompto suddenly felt like he could breathe for the first time in a month. “You’re shaking, love.” Ignis didn’t move his hand from Prompto's little bump, but slid his other arm around Prompto’s shoulder to pull him into an embrace. “We’ll have to be so careful with you…”

“I promise I’ll be careful, Iggy.” Prompto let himself sink into Ignis’ hug, let himself believe. “I’ll keep my distance in fights, like I have been, I’ll eat right, I’ll be careful -”

“You'll let me help, won't you?” He slid his hand to Prompto's back as Prompto sank against his chest. “You don't have to forgive me, or even love me, but please say you'll let me try to make this up to you.” He was trembling, and Prompto held him tighter, as he choked out, “I need to hear those words, my precious one.”

Prompto realized what Ignis was doing: actively seeking consent. Proof he wouldn't force Prompto into anything. “Yeah, Igs. Of course. If that's what you want, you don't have to ask.” Prompto couldn't believe it was real, he didn't dare open his eyes but instead squeezed them shut into Ignis’ shoulder. “I’ll work on forgiving you. I love you. I know it's gonna be hard, but I wanna share this with you.”

“I don’t deserve you, love.” He kissed Prompto’s forehead, then held him a little tighter. “We’ll make this work one way or another. Just like somehow, I'll find a way to make up for you spending so much as a second, let alone nearly a day, thinking I loved you any less for this.”

Prompto blinked back tears and pulled back, daring to look Ignis in the eyes. “Y-you love me?”

Ignis cocked his head. “You sound so surprised, my love. Have I not said it enough?” Prompto shivered, as Ignis clicked his tongue at himself. “An unforgivable oversight. I will have to remind you much more frequently.” He squeezed Prompto's hands. “Yes, I love you dearly, more every time I look at you, every moment I speak to you, and I'll prove it in this and every day for the rest of our lives.”

When Ignis said it, Prompto wanted to believe it. When Ignis pressed his forehead to Prompto’s and kissed his nose, Prompto did.

Then, Ignis murmured, “I think we should tell the others.” Prompto froze a little as Ignis knelt up a little and ran his palms down Prompto’s sides. “For one, they have eyes and will soon have questions.” He smiled wryly, though Prompto bit his lower lip. “I apologize, but it's true. And truly, they deserve to know; they’re our friends. Noctis is a brother to you, surely he should know, and if nothing else, they can try to protect you, as well.”

“N-no.” Prompto shook his head. “You all shouldn’t protect me, I’ll protect me, we’re supposed to be protecting Noctis.”

“We were _supposed_ to be escorting Noctis to Altissia for his wedding.” Ignis’ fingers curled around Prompto’s back. “We have gone far, far from what this trip was meant to be. What is one more twist, my love?”

Something in Prompto’s heart twisted, too, but after a moment, he nodded. “I have to protect Noct, though. We all do. I won’t ask the others to take care of me, but I guess they’re gonna notice sooner or later. They’ll hate me if I keep lying to them.”

Ignis chuckled as he cradled Prompto close, sinking the pair of them deeper into the dust. “I suppose it’d be difficult to explain if you went into labor without them ever having known.”

Prompto forced a little laugh into Ignis’ chest. “I guess I could pretend neither of us knew. Like, surprise, right?”

“Such things don’t make good surprises.”

Prompto dropped his chin into Ignis’ shoulder. “Didn’t make a good surprise for you.”

Ignis stilled, and his hands trembled. “I’m… I'm so terribly sorry. No wonder you're hesitant.” He winced and ran his fingers through Prompto's hair. “If they should react poorly, then I will intervene. You deserve your happiness too, love, even in these difficult times.”

Prompto hummed and clung closer to Ignis, to the moment, to the happiness they had. If this was all he could have, then yes, he would take it. Ignis wanted him to have it, after all.

He had no idea how long he and Ignis stayed like that, curled up together on the ground in embrace, but as long as it was Ignis holding him, it didn’t matter. For the first time in over a month where everything had gone wrong, finally something felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, we get some of the comfort part of hurt/comfort. <3


	10. Face Your Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis gives Prompto some reassurance and love in the wake of their conflict, but there are still doubts and worries ahead.
> 
> Or, Prompto gets hugs and a sonogram because Ignis loves him very, very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for a slow chapter with cuddles, fluff, and only hints that anything is bad at all? 
> 
> Well, I am. Enjoy~

**10\. Face Your Fears**

When Ignis did finally dare speak again, it was to ask, “Is there anything I can do for you to make you more comfortable tonight?”

Prompto shook his head into Ignis’ shoulder. “I just want you to hold me a little longer.”

“I can certainly do that.” He stroked Prompto’s hair again, teasing his cowlick, then glanced over his shoulder to the dying fire, the empty chairs, and the one chair still occupied. “Perhaps we can do it a little more comfortably.”

Ignis carried Noctis into the caravan to sleep, then coaxed Prompto back into the dying embers of their fire. He pulled him onto his lap, covered him in blankets, and held him there, warm and cozy, attempting to press back all the love which Prompto had felt deprived. “Are you cozy? Is this good?”

“Yeah.” Prompto slung his arms around Ignis’ neck, and Ignis placed a few kisses over his cheek. “I’m not too heavy, am I?”

“Not in the slightest. You will never be so heavy that I will not want to hold you. I regret not making an effort to give you more contact reassurance.” Ignis adjusted Prompto’s position on his thigh, endeavoring to pull Prompto even fractionally closer. “I confess, it’s a joy to hold you again.”

“I’m liking it too.” Prompto drew the blanket Ignis had laid over them a little tighter. “I really missed this, y’know, us.”

“As did I. More than you can imagine.” Ignis sighed and rested his chin in the crook of Prompto’s neck. “I will never let us go more than a day without contact again. I’ve realized, it’s been weeks since I last kissed you. This will not stand.” Ignis kissed him on the cheek, then planted chaste little kisses all over his jawline. “The others will have to understand.”

Prompto felt warm and whole just from a few kisses, but he also didn’t want to let go. He didn't want this to stop, after so long being deprived. “Y-yeah. I feel like I’ve been cold and alone for… forever.” He turned his face into Ignis’ chest. “I just want hugs.”

“Consider the hug buffet open for business, twenty-four-seven.” Ignis held him and squeezed tight, as Prompto giggled at the notion of _Ignis_ , of all people, making that offer. “As much as you want. And I want you to tell me everything. Never, ever be afraid to tell me anything, love.”

Prompto shivered a little, but Ignis held him tighter. “I… I’ll work on it.”

“I’ll do the same. I feel that we could have avoided the last twenty-four hours if I’d been clearer with my feelings last night.” Ignis hesitated, though his fingers still stroked down Prompto’s back. “Dear heart, I was terrified.”

“You were scared?” Prompto tilted his head to peer into his face, and he could see it. Ignis nodded.

“I was so very frightened by everything that came with the news. I thought of all the trouble that could overcome you, how dangerous it would be. I… I jumped from my own fears to my answer without considering your feelings.” He sighed again. “I haven’t apologized enough for that, my love.”

“Iggy, please.” Prompto kissed Ignis’ forehead. “You did.”

“No, no, not nearly enough; I ignored my own feelings and went to act on my own logic, as sure as if Noctis had asked me to step in and execute a monster, forgetting your feelings. One does and says terrible things when they’re afraid, and you should not have been victim to that.”

“Yeah, me too.” Prompto shut his eyes. “I was scared, too. I would’ve just…" He squeezed a hand tight. "Told you sooner… if I weren’t so scared of… of everything.”

“You have much to fear here.” Ignis frowned and smoothed Prompto's hair back. "My bad reaction is an unfortunate proof thereof…"

“Igs, no. Like, the Titan? When I got thrown and my back hit the wall?” Prompto stifled a nervous laugh. “Holy shit, I thought I’d killed the baby right there.”

Ignis’ face went cold. “Love-”

“Do you know how much it sucks to have to wait a day to look up how to know if your baby’s dying? Shit, when that damn Ardyn guy was watching me puke and talking about transporting medical waste I think I almost choked on my own sick.”

Ignis’ hold tightened, and anger colored his next words: “He said that to you?” Prompto nodded, and Ignis cringed. “If he knew what you were carrying and still said that-”

“I don’t know how he knows, but I feel like he knew somehow.” Prompto sighed. “I honestly thought it wouldn’t matter if I told you I was knocked up if the baby was already dead.”

“I would have wanted to know nonetheless! I would have at least been able to comfort you.” Ignis grimaced, and Prompto felt his breath stuttering. “I wish I could go back and do it over. I would have gone to the clinic with you. Noctis would likely have been happy to be allowed to laze about without me hanging over his shoulder!”

Prompto bit his lip, then mumbled, “I was scared then, too. Scared as anything. And… when people are scared, they do stupid stuff. Like, keep secrets from the guy they love and his best friends.”

“Yes, precisely.”

“But Noct was more important right then!”

“You had it right before that.” Ignis tousled Prompto’s hair, his lips a thin line. “Even if you were not ready to discuss it with the others, you could have -” Prompto heard him bite off whatever else he had been about to say to sigh. “No. I don’t wish to scold you for your mistakes while trying to atone for mine.”

“We got plenty of time for both of us to apologize for the last month and change.”

“Indeed. I’m still working on yesterday. Do you know how deeply you affected me?” Ignis slid his hand into Prompto’s. “After the initial dread and fear turned into anger, I must have paced, thinking and rethinking, for hours.” Ignis put his mouth against Prompto’s ear and confessed: “The first thing that came to mind when I saw past my anger? I found myself imagining the future.” Prompto flushed a little, and Ignis rocked him a little as his hand slid onto his thigh. “I thought about you with our child - perhaps with your lovely face, with your freckles and feather-soft hair - and found the notion of you with our child warmed my heart at the same time it drove me into panic. I thought of all the danger you would be in alone.” He rubbed Prompto’s back and brought him in closer. “I was thinking of how reckless you were, but that mental image of why you were doing it… Can you just imagine, a tiny little you?”

“I, um, haven’t even thought about what they’d look like. I guess for me, I think I thought about a tiny you.” Prompto chuckled a little, looking down bashfully. “I wasn’t a cute kid.”

“You jest. You were precious.”

“Igs-”

“I saw your old photographs in your house, darling. You had a bit of puppy fat, and you were quite cute.” Ignis tapped his nose. “Perhaps our child shall be somewhere in the middle of the two of us?”

Prompto grinned and confessed, “I, um, I kinda hope they have your eyes, and my freckles.”

Ignis smiled like a sunbeam was shining on his face. “Yes, that’s acceptable. It was… thinking of that potentiality, of seeing you and someone we created together, and of just how happy we could have possibly been that began to change my mind. Then… when I imagined you captured with our little one in your belly…” His expression broke, and he wound his arms tighter around him. “Thinking of you alone… thinking of our child never knowing their father because I had shouted you down, and of all the potential struggles that would come with raising a child as a single parent… I realized I couldn’t let you suffer that, and above all, I didn’t want to lose you.” He bit his lip. “I thought I would find you a safehouse. Somewhere secure, surrounded by friends or allies, where we could pass by often and I’d check on you whenever I could. Perhaps ask Cid to give you quarter. But that would have been as bad as letting you run, because I can't stand the thought of you out of my sight.” Prompto shivered, and Ignis tightened his arms around him. “Today was hard enough, especially when I realized how distant you'd become. I'm so dreadfully grateful that you're willing to let me close again."

"Iggy," Prompto whispered, as Ignis held him tighter. "All this time, I thought you just... didn't have time for me."

"Ah." The ice in that one syllable made Prompto shiver, but when Ignis pinched his brow, Prompto remembered who Ignis was most upset at. "I don't know how I will forgive myself for neglecting you such that the idea came to your mind. Never again, my love." Ignis tilted his cheek against Prompto's shoulder. "I will not ask you to leave my side, never again." He hesitated a moment, then: "When you're close, though, when the baby is near due, perhaps we can let you rest safe somewhere then?”

“I hope we'll have saved Lucis by then,” Prompto admitted. “But… if it comes to it, I guess I could go somewhere I'll be able to see a doctor easily.”

“I hope we'll have secured safety for all of us by then, too, but rebellions don't have due dates.” Ignis curled his arms around Prompto's waist. “When is yours? Do you know?”

“Um.” Prompto fished through his pockets, past the medicine bottles to a crumpled pamphlet. “The clinic doc gave me this, it's got all the recommended appointment weeks and, I think, a range of when I might be due.” He held it out to Ignis, who turned it towards the fire so he could make out all of the text on the shiny laminated paper.

“Maia, between the 14th and 28th.” He scanned over the rest of the page. “Oh. Your ‘next recommended appointment,’ as listed here, should have been last week…”

“Um, yeah, she wanted me to see an OB, ASAP, if I was gonna keep the baby. We’ve, um, been busy.” Prompto flushed bright red. “But I guess I'm pretty close on the sixteen week check, now.”

Ignis tsked, but Prompto could tell it came from worry rather than real anger. “We shall not miss a single one more. We will go to all of these from here on.” He waved the brochure. “We will find you a doctor no matter where we are, and we will make sure you and baby are in good health. Tomorrow, we'll set you up an appointment.” He paused, his palm sliding up Prompto's arm. “May I attend with you, love?”

“What?" Prompto startled and turned back to look Ignis in the eyes. "Of course!”

“Thank goodness.” Ignis sagged with relief, letting Prompto sink with him. “You're within your rights to reject me after how cruel I was, but you said… you said you heard their heart beat.” He barely broke a whisper when he spoke again: “I want to hear it, too.”

Prompto couldn't help but smile broadly to himself. “It was so cool. I want you to hear them. I wonder if we can see them, too?”

Ignis inhaled, and his long fingers slid down to cup the mound at Prompto's middle. “Shall we ask?”

“I vote yes. Big yes.”

“Yes, I agree.” He held Prompto close again, and the butterflies flew through Prompto anew. “I'm proud of you. Look at you, already taking precautions to protect them. I cleaned your armor thoroughly, my love, you'll be nice and safe. Clever darling you.” He kissed his cheeks a few times, as Prompto flushed. “And your vitamins - I'm so sorry I broke them.”

Prompto shook his head. “Aw, Iggy, that was my bad.”

“You wouldn't have dropped them if it weren't for me.” Ignis sighed and rubbed his forehead to Prompto’s. “In Lestallum, I'll get more for you. Whatever kind is best. But I’m so proud you thought to take them.” He pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. “You'll be a wonderful father.”

“I really hope so.” Prompto bit his lip. “You will, too.”

“I'll be the best I can be for you, for them.” Ignis held him close and tight. “As much as I wish to continue lavishing you with the adoration you rightfully deserve, I think it's time we slept.”

Prompto vaguely realized he was nodding off into Ignis’ shoulder, and sleepily nodded. Ignis lifted and carried him to the caravan and laid him in the bed next to Noctis. "You get the bed, my darling. Sleep well." He whispered his goodnight into his neck, then split from him to join Gladio on the pull-out sofa. As Prompto fell asleep, he was sure Ignis was gazing at him from his place, eyes sparkling in the dark.

 _He loves me_ , Prompto couldn't help but think. _He really does. Maybe he's scared, but he's facing this for me._

* * *

When morning light came, Prompto woke hazily to find Noctis sprawled on his chest. He first tried to nudge him off, but a feathery touch to his arm distracted him.

“No, no,” Ignis whispered from over him, looking soft and warm in the early dawn light. “You sleep. Your morning run can wait.”

“Mm.” Prompto grimaced as he tried and failed again to move Noctis. “Then can I have my anti-puke pills?”

Ignis shook his head and held the bottle out, point at some of the small text: _“Do not use if you are pregnant or think you may be pregnant.”_ “It's not been tested, love. Let's not gamble on it any longer. Take your time waking, and I'll make you something light.” With that, Ignis moved Noctis off of Prompto, pulled the sheet back to his chest, and kissed his forehead before stepping out of the caravan to make breakfast.

Prompto whined a little, but rolled over. He could feel his morning sickness creeping up on him, but he also felt _cherished_. Ignis clearly meant so well. Prompto tried to memorize this feeling, in case it faded too fast.

Then he bolted from the bed to puke. Again. Some things didn't change.

Some things did, however: Ignis was making an effort to be as good as his word, and better. He made Prompto toast with peanut butter and banana slices and encouraged him to take small bites and drink lots of water, completely ignoring the quizzical looks Gladio was giving him. He stroked Prompto's hair whenever he had the chance. While Noct and Gladio trained, distracted, Ignis asked Prompto to help him dry the dishes and leaned over to kiss him whenever he passed him one.

“Igs, you'll embarrass a guy!” He laughed as Ignis doused his forehead in soft kisses.

“I only mean to ensure you are well-reminded of my affection for you.” He washed the next dish, his gaze low despite his fond smile. “I've not been of a mind to, but I've been keenly reminded of what I stand to lose if I fail to ensure you are aware of my love.”

Prompto leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I'm not going anywhere. I love you too.” He'd never felt so free to say it.

In the car, Ignis kept his eyes on the road and one hand on the console. If Prompto left his hand on the console so Ignis could hold it, Noct and Gladio didn't notice or care.

They stopped at the Hunter's outpost long enough to sell the scrap metal and other items they'd found, and Gladio turned in a few dog tags he’d picked up on their hunts. Then, they drove for Lestallum. Everything seemed like it was coming up roses.

Then they got to the Leville and came face to face with a tearful Iris.

Gladio took the news of his family's retainer dying at the hands of the Empire as well as a man could. Noctis and Ignis did their best to comfort Talcott, and Gladio stood tall for Iris, letting her cry onto his chest. Prompto tried to talk to Talcott, but he was sobbing even as Noctis told him to stay strong. He then turned to Gladio, muttering, “Hey, man, I’m real sorry,” but Gladio didn't even look at him.

The agreement was made quickly: Iris wanted to go to Cape Caem with the Crownsguard. She and Talcott would be safer somewhere less populated. Talcott was going to go with a few Guard members who had shown up earlier. Once they’d all taken care of business in Lestallum, Gladio - with the other three - would personally escort Iris.

“Perhaps,” Ignis suggested to Noct, “I should get a separate room from the suite for myself and Prompto. That way, Gladio and Iris can have some privacy in this difficult time.”

“Can't Prompto just stay with me? There are two beds in each room.” Noct frowned, and Ignis shook his head.

“I'd prefer us to remain in pairs within each room to watch one another's backs, all things considered. You and Gladio shall remain in the Presidential suite, and I'll request the neighboring room for myself and Prompto. I shall, of course, take advantage of the kitchenette for the benefit of all of us this evening. Prompto, would you assist me?”

As much as Noct's disappointed sulk stung, Prompto was in awe of Ignis’ ability to come up with a foolproof plan to get his way. He distracted Noct by showing off his recent photos as Ignis called the front desk, until Ignis hung up and beckoned him. He took up his and Ignis' bags and slung them over his shoulder and followed Ignis to the door with a cheeky wave at Noct. The moment the door shut, however, Ignis took the bags from Prompto.

“Those are too heavy for you. Leave it to me.”

“Aww, Iggy, I can-”

Ignis was already carrying both of their bags to the next door, just as a bellhop arrived to unlock the door and passed the key to Ignis. Ignis looked satisfied as he set their things down. “You may be physically able for now, but it's rewarding for me to assist you. Besides, I imagine a proper obstetrician may tell you to avoid heavy lifting.” His eyes gleamed as he took out the brochure Prompto had kept from the clinic. “Why don't we find out?”

Prompto took the brochure and turned it to the page which listed the nearby obstetricians. “I'll make the calls. Baby's in my body and all.” He gave his middle an indicative pat, and didn't miss the crinkle in Ignis’ eyes. “Plus, I've got the info from the clinic so they can fax for it.”

“Clever. Alright, go ahead. I'll make a shopping list.” Ignis passed Prompto the brochure with the numbers, and Prompto sat on the bed and took up the phone.

A few phone calls later, and Prompto had success. “I found somewhere that'll see me tomorrow, bright and early at 8.”

“Excellent.” Ignis turned from the desk and held up a pad and paper. “And I have a list of ingredients for tonight's dinner and tomorrow's breakfast.” He set the pad aside the crossed to join Prompto on the bed. “There is one more matter to discuss before we reconvene with the others.”

“Uh-huh?”

“How, when, and how much to tell Gladio and Noct.”

“Oh.” Prompto cringed at Ignis' straightfowardness. “I did agree to that, huh.”

Ignis nodded, somber and even. “They're our friends.”

“Mm, yeah, but…” Prompto dug his fingers into the bedspread and watched nervous little patterns pull in the duvet. Ignis put his hand over the back of his palm, then lifted his hand and kissed the fingers.

“You can tell me anything, love.”

Prompto bit his lip, then squeezed Ignis’ hand. “I… I’m scared to tell them.” He cringed down against Ignis’ chest, crumpling a little. “I’m sorry, I know it’s silly, but… I guess I’m worried they’ll get mad at me.”

Ignis wrapped an arm around him. “I understand, but they do deserve to know. I know Noctis has worried. Gladio’s worried, in his own way.” Prompto tried to bury himself in Ignis’ chest.

“It hurts thinking about it.”

“Darling, I know.” Ignis subtly rocked Prompto. “It’s too much to ask of you. You must still be brittle, and I know you likely just want to feel safe. However, I believe that taking this risk will make you feel safer in the long run. Our friends will know to at least mind you.” Prompto bit his lower lip, and let Ignis hold him.

“Can I wait until after we see the doctor?” Prompto swallowed hard and pressed his eyes into Ignis’ shoulder. “Just until we get some good news. I just want a good day.”

“I’ll try to give that to you.” Ignis petted his hair, nice and slow, and Prompto melted against him. “I spoil Noctis on a daily basis. I can spoil you, too.”

“Like milk,” he mumbled.

“Like milk,” Ignis agreed with a soft laugh. Prompto knew the gentle treatment was likely only temporary, that Ignis would be his usual acidic, stern self again, only this sweet in the rare moments they shared alone.

Prompto would treasure this while it lasted, and face the rest when he had to.

“Can you hold me a while? I know you gotta make dinner, but…”

“I don’t think you want me to make Gladio or Noct do it, no.” Ignis smiled into his throat. “But yes. Other worries can wait.”

Prompto enjoyed every second of that embrace as if he would never be held ever again.

* * *

 Prompto was debating whether to write the baby down as Argentum, Scientia, Scientia-Argentum, or Argentum-Scientia, when he felt Ignis drumming on the shared arm of the waiting room chair. He just stifled a giggle, wrote down “Baby Argentum,” and turned the paper in.

He’d woken up and found Ignis had gone, likely to make Noct, Iris, and Gladio breakfast and to give them a cover story, and discovered a note, left with a banana and two slices of toast, that said, _“Take your time waking up, I’ll be back soon.”_ Prompto was about to eat, then remembered the doctor’s instructions and furrowed his brow. He showered, pocketed the banana, and waited for Ignis outside of Noct’s door, and the two of them were off to the doctor.

They’d been excited on the way there, holding hands tight down the street. Now, Ignis’ nervous energy was palpable as they waited in the obstetrician’s clinic, tapping his hands on the chair and looking around at all the images on the wall, posters and infographics about “well woman” care and useful reminders for a healthy pregnancy. Prompto was able to remember the information for the emergency clinic that had told him he was pregnant, and as he sat and swung his legs in the chair as the receptionist sent a fax and gave him a thumbs-up. For once, Prompto was the calm one, and he nudged Ignis’ leg. “You okay, Igs?”

“Am I distracting you?” Ignis forced himself still. “Apologies; I’m somewhat excited.”

“Excited? You don’t get excited too easy.”

“How are you not excited?” Ignis turned to face Prompto. “I’d think you’d be bouncing off the walls.”

“Oh, I would be, except I’m actually really nervous, I’m just getting really good at hiding it. I would’a puked if I’d had breakfast.” Prompto kept swinging his legs, as Ignis sobered.

“You didn’t eat? Love, you need to -”

“They told me not to. Um.” Prompto squirmed under Ignis’ scrutiny. “Like, when I called last night. S’why we’re here so early, they wanted to run blood tests on me with, um, resting blood sugar? Something about gestational diabetes. So, I couldn’t eat before.”

Ignis clamped a hand down over Prompto’s and squeezed it. “When we’re done, I’ll acquire you a lovely brunch. But what do you have to be afraid of?”

“I dunno. Everything?” He laughed nervously. “I mean, I’ve tried to be careful, but I get knocked around, so what if something happened? And … I dunno, I read in those pamphlets to try to avoid stress, but, um, I’ve been _really_ stressed. I’m scared I hurt our baby.”

Ignis lifted Prompto’s hand and kissed his palm. “Love, it’s alright.”

“But I’m excited at the same time.” Prompto put his other hand over Ignis. “We get to see them today.”

Ignis glowed with approval. “I sincerely hope so.”

The nurse led Prompto back to one of the examination rooms, though Ignis was made to wait for Prompto to give a sample for the urine test and to have his blood drawn. The moment the nurse taped up the gauze on his arm, however, Prompto tapped her arm and grinned. “Hey, so, I didn’t eat, just like they said on the phone, but I’m actually feeling kinda hungry by now. Can I have a snack?”

The nurse tsked him, but he took the banana out of his pocket and she giggled. “Very well then. Drink some water, too, but don’t eat anything else until after the doctor sees you, alright?”

By the time Ignis was allowed in the exam room, Prompto was in the pink pelvic examination gown with the front tied tight around his chest, eating his banana and swinging his legs off of the end of the exam table. Ignis smiled helplessly, then kissed Prompto just above the ear. “No less nervous, love?”

“Not even a little! It’s okay, I’m pretty good at faking it, at least for a while.” He beamed. “I’m glad it’s only breaking through a little.”

“Darling.” Ignis ruffled his hair. “You have nothing to be afraid of here.” He sat down in the chair beside the table. “The doctor will be here in a moment, and I’ll be with you the whole time.” As soon as he settled, however, Prompto noticed Ignis fidgeting and chuckled a little.

“You’re still nervous too.”

“How can I not be? I have the least control of anyone in the room.” Ignis smiled wryly, consciously keeping his hands from wrapping around one another. “I’m merely here to see our child and find out how best to take care of the both of you. Their health and well-being, that’s between you and them, and to a lesser extent, the doctor.”

“Pressure’s on me, right?” Prompto laughed nervously, and Ignis took his hand again.

“Which is why I’m here to alleviate it.”

The doctor chose that moment to push the door open, and she smiled to see the pair of them. “Don’t you make a cute couple?” She giggled as she pulled a cart in. Prompto liked her immediately. “I’m Doctor Naline. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!” Prompto grinned at her, then folded his hands in front of him. “Um, can I answer any questions about my history?”

Doctor Naline tapped her clipboard. “I’ve actually reviewed everything the first clinic sent over. You’re a relatively healthy transman with a complete, functional female reproductive system who had a breakthrough menstrual cycle, and about fifteen weeks later, here we are.” She beamed at Prompto. “All in all, not my usual fare, but then again, most of the women I see could bench-press me.” She winked at Ignis, explaining, “EXINERIS employees. Anyway, I try not to let myself be surprised by anything anymore.”

“You’re awfully cheerful, all things considered.” Ignis seemed wary, but mildly amused. Doctor Naline gave him a thumbs-up.

“I get excited when I get to give folks good news. Let’s start here: your blood sugar is fine, and everything else on your battery of blood work is coming up roses so far. Some of these take a few days to process, so, is this phone number good?” She tapped Prompto’s cell on her clipboard. “I’d like to contact you with the final results.”

“Yeah, for sure. If I don’t pick up, please leave a message.” He glanced cautiously to Ignis. “We, um, move around a lot, so cell reception can get spotty.”

“Not a problem.” She beamed and made a note, then got down the blood pressure monitor. “Let’s see how we’re looking.”

The doctor praised Prompto’s healthy blood pressure, chided him for not gaining any weight since his last clinic visit, and when Prompto protested, “But I got a tummy! How could I _not_ gain weight?” she still tsked him.

“Are you having morning sickness still?”

“It’s all-day sickness sometimes,” he admitted, turning his eyes down. “It's better lately, but there’s smells that turn my stomach, like coffee or melted butter, and I’ve been puking more when I'm upset, too.” Ignis turned away at that, trying hard not to look ashamed. Doctor Naline shook her head.

“If you’re sick that often, it’s likely you’re not getting proper nutrition.” She crossed her arms. “You might be gaining baby weight but losing weight elsewhere. Take your time getting up in the mornings, it helps. If you can identify the smells that trigger nausea, make an effort to avoid them. The anxiety is another issue altogether, but hopefully, Papa over there can help ease your worries a little.” She winked at Ignis, who flushed and nodded, before she returned her attention to Prompto. “Fortunately, the nausea usually peters out by the twentieth week or so.” She got out a soft tape measure. “Now, for good measure: let me see that tummy.”

Prompto laid back on the table and strained not to giggle as she wrapped the tape around him in a few places. “Your fundal height is actually normal! Let me see your hand?” Prompto extended his hand, and she guided it to a spot just under his navel. “Feel that little curve? You probably noticed it already, but that’s the top of your uterus. Your baby’s right under there.”

Ignis leaned forward with interest, and Prompto could tell he was memorizing the spot from where he sat. Prompto was only a little squicked at remembering that he had a uterus, but knowing it was holding something precious made any sense of dysphoria ebb away. That little bump was the same rise Prompto had thought he'd felt and saw, and he gave the swell a gentle pat. “I thought I felt them there. That’s where they are, huh?”

“Yes. Amazing, right? You’re going to want to invest in some looser pants soon!” Doctor Naline glowed with eagerness. “You know what’s even more amazing, though?” She pointed at her cart. “The sonogram monitor and all the stuff you’re going to see on it.”

Prompto vibrated with excitement as she turned the machine on, as Ignis dared move closer and circled the table to stand behind Prompto’s shoulder as Prompto fidgeted with the gown. “Can I hold your hand, darling?”

“Of course you - um, doc, can my partner hold my hand?”

Doctor Naline giggled. “Sure thing, Mr.-”

“Argentum,” Ignis answered quickly. “Ignacio is fine.”

“Igs,” Prompto whispered, but Ignis motioned with a shake of his head and a finger to his lips for Prompto not to say anything. Prompto realized it without asking: Ignis Scientia might be a known name. The Scientia family had served Lucis for generations. If any of his information became public, if anyone figured out who Ignis, Gladio, or Noctis were, it could lead to the Empire tracking them down.

Maybe their baby wouldn’t be able to be a Scientia after all. Prompto had been trying out Scientia-Argentum and Argentum-Scientia in his head all morning, but now both of them left him aching. Ignis gripped his hand, and it chased his worries back for the moment.

“Here it comes.” The machine hummed a little as it turned on, and Doctor Naline turned to Prompto with the wand. She spread a little gel over his belly - “This will help keep the picture clear, sorry it’s cold!” - then rolled the head of the wand onto his skin. The image on the screen was black and white, and Prompto couldn’t tell what it was yet. Doctor Naline hummed, moving the wand, then sparked as something resolved. “Oh, here, here it is!”

And there it was. A tiny face in silhouette, a tiny nose, a great big head, and tiny hands and fingers. Behind him, Ignis gasped.

“Oh, they’re -” Ignis’ grip on his hand was as tight as Prompto’s heartstrings.

“Yeah?” Prompto looked towards him, because he had to turn his eyes away in hopes he wouldn’t choke on the rush of emotions that overwhelmed him. Fear, joy, excitement, wonder, adoration, all of them warred over his heart. However, his chest seized even tighter when he realized Ignis had tears in his eyes.

“They’re real.” Ignis spoke around the lump in his throat, all the myriad feelings that were surely overwhelming him too. “I can _see_ them. Astrals, that’s - that’s...”

“That’s your baby. A perfectly normal-looking fifteen-week mature fetus,” Doctor Naline supplied with her trademark pep as Ignis warred words and sentiment on the tip of his tongue. “Looks about average in size - ten centimeters, I’m counting ten fingers on those little hands.” She moved the wand over. “And ten toes! How about that?” Prompto held back a squeal as he saw the tiny feet, the knobbly little knees, the little belly. Their baby. “Let’s see if we can see any movement.” She slid the wand back over to the baby’s head. “Oh, oh, watch carefully. It looks like your baby is trying to suck their thumb.”

Ignis’ hand was shaking, and he closed his other hand around Prompto’s as they watched. “They’re moving. Amazing. Prompto, look, look.”

“Yeah, I can’t stop looking.” Prompto’s vision was blurry with tears, but he could still see the baby’s twiggy little arm, bent at the elbow, thumb in mouth. “Six, they’re like a real baby already.”

“Well, they are,” Doctor Naline chuckled. “Their eyes and ears are developing now. They should be able to sense light soon, and they’ll be able to hear within the next few weeks.”

“Hear?” Prompto repeated, and planted both hands on his sides around the wand. “I’ll talk to them all day.”

“That's the spirit! Now, if you want to hear something, I can arrange for that.” Doctor Naline adjusted a dial, and suddenly, there was a swishing, rushing noise. Prompto almost jumped right off the table.

“Their heart! That's their heart, right?!”

“It is,” Doctor Naline said, beaming. “Perfect, very strong! Give me a moment to listen, okay?” She put on a set of headphones, and Prompto twisted around to Ignis to see him wrought up with joy, looking like he might cry or laugh any second.

“You… you heard _this,_ five weeks ago?” He slid his fingers up his cheeks like he could force his smile smaller. “Oh, love, no wonder.”

“The heartbeat sounds perfectly normal,” Doctor Naline reported as she pulled off the headphones. “Those little muscles are coming together nicely. Looks like your little one’s doing great!”

“I beg your pardon,” Ignis said abruptly, and Prompto felt his hand shake. “May I… or, rather, may we have copies of the sonogram image?”

“Of course you can!” Doctor Naline adjusted the wand again and pressed a little button. “I’ll print this out for you. Baby’s first picture!”

Prompto had never seen Ignis look so unabashedly eager about a piece of paper.

He’d also never been carried out of a doctor’s office like a bride being kidnapped in the night, Ignis all too eager and praising him effusively as they left, with the image Doctor Naline had printed for them still in his hand. “You’ve done such a wonderful job, love, look how perfect they are, how precious and beautiful!” He peppered Prompto’s face with kisses as they crossed the threshold out to the street. Prompto squeaked and looped his arms around Ignis’ neck.

“It’s hard to believe I thought you didn’t want us a day ago!”

“A day for which I shall never forgive myself.” Ignis kissed him again. “I’m going to get you lunch, just as promised, anything you and our baby desire.” _Our baby_ , Prompto’s head echoed, and his heart fluttered. Ignis adored _their_ baby. “I can't promise you all of our days will be so pleasant, but I can give you paradise for today, if nothing else. You deserve that and more.”

“All I want is us,” Prompto whispered, and keened a little when Ignis held him tighter.

“Anything for you.”

Perhaps this would be the only good day they could have for a while, but Ignis was actually celebrating their baby, eager for it. Maybe at least that much could last. He had someone with whom he could share his joy and terror. He had someone who would face this with him.


	11. Face Facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto and Ignis have their plans for the future, but they do share lives and destinies with two others, and it's time they made their secret into a fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. The transphobia tags? Fair warning, that's a thing in this chapter. Sorry, guys, but Gladio decided to be an asshole. (He's not in a good place right now.) Even so, this conversation has been a long time coming...

**11\. Face Facts**

Ignis was in full mother-hen mode, in the nicest way possible.

He’d taken Prompto from the doctor's office to the market, got him whatever he wanted for lunch - it happened to be grilled chickatrice skewers and a big kale salad - and walked around the market with him, hand in hand, gathering ingredients for dinner and other supplies for the Armiger, talking and laughing. Ignis was as warm as he ever was, and protective, cautious about every step Prompto took. Prompto got the feeling that Ignis would be this indulgent every day if he were allowed. It was great.  

His renewed affection was wonderful, intensely sweet, and Ignis was laying it on thick in every way he knew how. After giving Prompto praise and affection, nourishing him and giving him attention, he decided to put his mind to use for his next round of "take better care of Prompto." Ever the strategist, he was already full of plans and ideas to ensure he was giving Prompto the best and easiest time possible. Prompto would have felt a little suffocated by it if he weren’t so thirsty for affection right now, and Ignis clearly needed to tell Prompto of every act of love he had in mind. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t push back on some of Ignis’ more insistent declarations:

“I want you sleeping in a bed from here on,” Ignis told him without breaking rhythm from chopping up onions. “Whenever possible, you get a bed, even if there’s only the one.”

“I thought it was kind of an unspoken thing, Noct should get the bed,” Prompto countered as he sliced a few peppers open and removed the seeds. “He’s got that old back injury.”

“He’ll want you to have the bed too once he knows. Your poor back, darling, it breaks my heart to think of you sleeping on the floor. Perhaps we can get you an air mattress for the tent, too, bollocks to Gladio's preferences. You need to take good care of yourself.” Ignis chopped away the top of the onion with finality. “Ah, yes, and you eat. No matter what comes to pass, you eat every day.”

Prompto hunched his shoulders. “But…”

“If we’re in a position where we can’t acquire ingredients or some form of wholesome nourishment, no matter what, there will be something on hand for you to eat.” Ignis moved from the onions to peeling carrots, enthusiasm clear in his spirited flick of the wrist and brisk tempo. “I can’t promise it will be necessarily good food, but I want to have a week’s worth of MREs and canned food on hand at all times. I’ll get them tomorrow while you're trying on new clothes.”

“MREs?” Prompto pushed the peppers into the bowl and moved on to the garlic.

“Military rations, heat-and-eat.” Ignis moved to dump the carrot peelings into the garbage. “They're not ideal, but you and the baby need the nutrition.”

“Okay, well, maybe get enough for everyone to eat for a week. I’m gonna hate being the only one eating if it comes to that.” Prompto pouted a little, but went on peeling the skin off of the garlic. Ignis hummed contentedly, clearly somewhat relishing being able to put a plan in place.

“No heights. No climbing trees, no matter how good you think the view might be or how good the vantage point is.”

“Iggy-”

“I’m terrified you’ll fall, love.” Ignis kissed the back of his head as he passed behind him to grab the pot. “Ah, and in addition to the looser clothing, we should ensure you have lingerie to support and protect your chest. You may need to get some roomier brassieres.” Ignis hummed as Prompto grimaced down at the cutting board, though Ignis went on, “Perhaps some sort of brace to support your lower back, for when the weight puts strain on your spine.”

That made Prompto shudder. “Um. Yeah. Weight. Guess I’m gonna get heavy, huh…”

“If I have anything to do with it, yes.” Ignis paused, turning back to Prompto. “Were you… you hadn't thought of it?”

“Oh, um, I guess I figured I would, I just didn’t think about … how much.” Prompto’s chest felt tight, and his knees got weak. “You think I'm gonna get so fat I'll need a brace to hold all my chub up, huh…” He fumbled the clove of garlic he’d been working on, his fingers too thick and clumsy to handle it all of a sudden. Gladio had already called him out about looking thicker, even as Ignis now mused about how he was "far too thin," but there was that bump on his belly. Suddenly, all he could think about was the day he’d met Noct the first time.

 _You’re heavy._ That had been how he’d met him. A fat troll with a cheap camera, tripping over his own flabby face. If he hadn’t gotten lighter, then Noctis would have never become his friend. He would have never met Ignis. Ignis probably would have been disgusted with him, too, but now Ignis was talking about him _gaining_ weight, the doctor who told him to wear loose clothes, and _Eos to Prompto_ he knew what pregnant women looked like! He was going to be _heavy_ again and Ignis... For now, Ignis was cocking his head curiously.

“Love, you’ve gone pale.” Ignis put a hand on his forehead. “Is something wrong? Are you nauseous?”

Prompto, doubled over and slumped in anxiety, felt ready to retch even with his stomach was growling empty. Instead, the words spewed forth, uncontrolled, “Six, I’m gonna get fat and you’re gonna hate me.”

“What?! Prompto!” Ignis lifted Prompto's face in his palms and forced Prompto to look at him. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Noct." Prompto trembled like he'd been left out in the cold. "I was heavy. You know how fat I was. He wouldn’t look at me twice. If I’d been like that when we met you wouldn’t’ve wanted to look at me, and I worked hard and made myself skinny so people would like me, but now I’ve got to go back.” He inhaled shakily. “You’re so gorgeous and I’m gonna be a disgusting pig again, and -”

Ignis furrowed his brow. “Dear heart, I told you, I know what you looked like when you were young-”

“And you wouldn’t have wanted to be with me if I looked like that!” Prompto challenged him, pushing his hands off. “Tell me you would have wanted to be with a land whale like I was!”

Ignis was taken aback, then turned his eyes down. “Please don't say such horrid things about yourself. You’ve been carrying misunderstandings, dear heart. Noctis remembered you, and he didn’t care what you looked like. If I had known you, neither would I!" He put a hand on his heart and reached for Prompto's shoulder with the other. "The only thing that changed was your confidence-”

"You see, you see," Prompto stammered and staggered back from Ignis, “You’re not saying no.” He sucked in air and dropped down to bury his face in his arms, trying to compose himself before the panic really set in, and Ignis chased him down.

“Love, shh, shh, I’m sorry.” He tucked Prompto close to his chest. “I struggle to imagine it. I fear that I wouldn’t have had a chance to see your personality shine through if you hadn’t gained that confidence. You will still be the same lovely person no matter what. I'd love the Prompto I know even if you were overweight!” Prompto felt him shift as he made to dig his phone out of his pocket. “Besides, you won’t be fat! You’ll be carrying our child. Look, Prompto.” He turned the screen towards Prompto and showed him an image search for “pregnant.” Pretty women, round bellies, big smiles. “Do you think they’re fat or disgusting?” Prompto silently shook his head. “See, now, love. I imagine you’ll glow, and even brighter than any of them. And you’re still forgetting the important part.” He quickly typed in another search, showing Prompto an article and a chart. “There, it's all here in black and white. You’re fifteen weeks, aren’t you, love? Tell me what it says under ‘Average Weight’ for the first trimester.”

Prompto swallowed, tongue thick and mouth dry, but managed to read, “You should expect to gain between two and four pounds in the first trimester, and then one pound a week after that for the rest of your pregnancy...”

“There you go, love. That's what doctors recommend for the baby to grow up healthy. It’s not that much. You’ve just surpassed the first trimester, and quite honestly, it’s more concerning that you’ve gained no weight from where you began.” Ignis tapped the bottom line of the chart. “For a person of average body weight, you should gain between twenty-five to thirty-five pounds. That’s nothing! Most of it will be baby, the rest will be water.” He put his phone down and wrapped his arm tighter around Prompto’s shoulder. “I admit, I worried about this.”

“About me getting fat?”

“Over you getting anxious about gaining weight.” Ignis rubbed Prompto's side. “I’m aware of how hard you worked to lose it and I see the way you eat even now. You need to eat for someone else now, though. It's only a little extra, and yes, it will show, but I swear nobody will shame you for it. I know I'll only be proud of you for carrying that weight.” Ignis sighed and kissed his cheek. “Promise me that if your anxiety makes it difficult for you to eat for fear of gaining, you’ll talk to me. I want our child to be born healthy, and they need for you to gain that weight so they can grow.”

Prompto nodded. “M’sorry, Iggy.”

“No need to apologize.” Ignis kissed him on the forehead again. “Now, are you ready to stand up and get back to-”

There was a noise at the door, and both Ignis and Prompto looked up to see Gladio hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised. “Oh,” he said, setting his hands on his hips. “Well, this explains a lot.”

“Gladio!” Ignis was the first to get to his feet. “How long have you-” Gladio was already smirking.

“Hey, I’m the one who should be asking ‘how long have you two been fucking.’” He grinned toothily, slapping his leg and throwing his head back as he crowed, “I knew it, I _knew_ it! I thought so, but I _knew_ you two’ve been getting busy!” Gladio cackled, and Prompto buried his face in his knees. Ignis heaved a sigh.

“I told you, years ago now, Prompto and I were taking a second look at our relationship.”

“You never told me you two were banging.” Gladio grinned. “So, what was the other day, huh? Lover’s spat?” His expression shifted, his smile took a meaner edge. “As long as whatever you two got between you doesn’t get in the way of what we need to do-”

“We need to tell Noct.” Prompto said it before Gladio could take his admonishment any further. Ignis stilled, then turned around.

“Off the floor, dear heart.” Ignis helped him to a stand and faced Gladio, shoulders back. “We do need to have a discussion as a group, but now is not a good time. Where is Noctis?”

“Right here.” Prompto heard the door to the room shut, and Noctis peered into the kitchen around Gladio a moment later. “Any reason we’re all over here?”

Gladio elbowed Noctis in the ribs, grinning. “Caught these two getting cuddly. How ‘bout that, your best buddy’s hooking up with your butler.”

Prompto turned crimson as Noctis gaped, but Ignis tried to block him with his body. “It’s not nearly that coarse. I must ask you both, he’s just had a minor panic, please give us just a few minutes of quiet.” He glanced back at Prompto, sympathy in his gaze and expression. “We do need to have a conversation about this. Something’s come up.”

Gladio’s eyes narrowed, mouth setting into a hard line, but Noctis pushed him back. “Prompto, are you okay?”

“Six, I hope so,” he whispered, shivering, and Noctis’ eyes went wide.

“You’re scaring me.”

“Just a few minutes, give us a few minutes, I implore you,” Ignis pleaded, trying to urge them back out of the doorway. Noctis took a step back, enough that Ignis could slide the door to the kitchenette shut before pivoting on Prompto again. Worry touched his expression now, and he pursed his lips as he approached Prompto and cupped his face in his hands. “This is not the ideal time for this. You're in no state for this conversation.”

“They need to know, Igs.” Prompto rubbed his cheek against Ignis' palm, then propped himself against the refrigerator. “We gotta tell them, sooner rather than later.”

“You’re not wrong, love. Tell them we shall, as soon as you’re ready.” Ignis tugged him back and gently led him to sit in one of the breakfast nook chairs. “Here. I’ll get the soup going, you take some nice, deep breaths until you can calm down.”

Prompto nodded, and bowed his head into his hands. He had been trying to compose what he was going to say, even as he had been trying to ignore his predictions of how they would react. He needed to bite the bullet and handle this now. "We have three things to tell them…" He muttered to himself, scratching his head. "The question is how."

He puzzled on it for a long time, but the only answer that came was to be direct.

* * *

Prompto found a kind of zen in washing the dishes. It was easier than dodging Noctis and Gladio’s gazes. Ignis was trying to distract them, but Prompto could faintly hear them talking, mostly Noctis:

“He can’t just do that. Say you have something to tell us then just, not tell us for two hours.” Noct was sulking. "He hardly even looked at us."

Ignis sounded strained: “It’s complicated. I imagine he’s gathering his thoughts.”

“But you already know,” Gladio challenged, and Ignis held back a strained noise.

“He’s confided in me, yes.”

“Igs.” Prompto winced, because he could just imagine the look in Noct’s eyes now, wordless pleading. “He hasn’t been right. C’mon.”

Prompto put the last pot into the drying rack. He still hadn’t figured out what, exactly, to say, but he was out of excuses to delay saying what had to be said. He dried his hands and gathered himself with a deep breath, gave his middle a reassuring little pat, then rejoined the others. All of them locked onto him like he had a target on his head, and he instinctively put his hands up. “H-hey. Uh. So. I wanted to, um - hey, can we sit somewhere comfy?” Standing over the other two was only making his nerves worse.

“Anything you want.” Noct stood first and went to sit on the edge of his bed, and Gladio eyed Prompto for a moment before yanking a chair up to the beds. Ignis caught Prompto’s eye, and spoke just to him:

“Are you ready?”

Prompto nodded jerkily, and sat on the bed opposite Noct. Ignis sat beside him and took his hand. To Prompto’s surprise, Ignis spoke first: “If I may, Prompto?” He squeezed Prompto’s hand, and Prompto nodded. At least Iggy would know how to start. Ignis looked between the other two, then settled on holding Noctis' eyes. “It has come to our attention that neither of us found an opportune moment to discuss with either of you that we’ve been seeing each other.”

“Yeah, we saw earlier.” Noctis bowed his head. “For how long?”

“More than two years,” Prompto mumbled. “We, um, decided to give it a try at your big eighteenth birthday bash, and it kinda worked.”

“That long?!” Gladio stared between them, then fixated on Prompto with a faint scowl in place. “So you did go for it when I told you!”

“You told him?” Ignis frowned, but Prompto squeezed his hand. “I… should thank you.”

“Not really. Given that your hooking up has led to us having to have a ‘talk,’ I’m regretting hooking you two up already.” Gladio crossed his arms, still glaring at Prompto as he slouched in the chair again. “Alright, what-”

“Prompto, I still don't get why you didn’t tell me.” Noctis was holding back some sort of emotion, strained as he leaned in towards him. “Why not? It’s not ‘cause you’re gay, right? I don't care if you're gay!”

“No, it's not that.” Prompto bit his lower lip. “Um. You were really mad about love stuff when it came to Lady Lunafreya, and I didn’t want to upset you.” Noctis looked crestfallen.

“Hey, just because I was sick of hearing about all that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have been happy that you and Igs were a couple.” He knit his brow up and weakly shrugged. “I wish I’d known sooner. I would’a had you bunk together more.”

“Hey, I’m putting a hard ‘no fucking in the tent or caravan’ rule in place.” Gladio glared at Ignis. “Get a hotel room or anywhere with a lock where I don’t have to hear it or see it.”

“I assure you,” Ignis said, drawing himself up, “I have no interest in being intimate with Prompto anywhere that either of you might see. I prefer my privacy.”

Noctis turned red. “So you two…” Prompto found himself blushing, too.

“Well, we're consenting adults, and all…”

“Prompto.” Ignis squeezed his hand. “Perhaps you should tell them the next part.” He glanced to the other two. “Neither of you ever read his background check, I presume.”

Noctis scowled. “He's Prompto. There's nothing to check.”

“Figured I'd be able to figure if he was on the up and up by meeting him.” Gladio's arms tensed against his chest. “I'm starting to get the idea he's sneakier than I thought.”

“Prompto is precisely the person you have always believed him to be.” Ignis put his heels down. “Do you think I would be sleeping with him if I thought him capable of such subterfuge, or do you think me a poor judge of character, Gladiolus?”

Oh no, Iggy was full-name angry. Prompto shrank as Gladio sat forward, drawling back defiantly, “We all make mistakes. Plus, you read the report, so whatever it is couldn't be that bad.”

“There is no value judgment involved, mere fact.”

“If you got facts I'm missing, then spill it, Specs!”

Prompto couldn't hold his tongue a second longer: “I was born a girl!”

Gladio and Noctis each turned towards him so fast Prompto was surprised he didn't hear their necks crack. “You're a girl?!”

“What?” Noctis’ expression of shock was so broad and open that if Prompto weren't in the center of the controversy, it would have been comical. “But… you…”

“Fuck, shit, fuck - you're a girl, why the fuck did nobody tell me you were a girl!” Gladio stormed to his feet, clenched fists shaking. Prompto shuddered, fists clenched white-knuckle tight at his sides.

“I'm _not_. I never felt like a girl. I'm…” He struggled with his words. “I'm sort of in between.”

Gladio, flushed with anger, pointed accusingly at Prompto. “Like fuck, either you're a girl or a guy, spread your legs and figure it out!”

Ignis went crimson and jumped to his feet, chest to chest with Gladio. “One's genetic sex and psychological gender are not necessarily congruous. Or has seven years of knowing the man not convinced you that he's precisely what he says he is?”

Noct had been dumbstruck, shaking his head. “But he's a guy. Prompto, you're…”

“I-I never felt like a girl, so my parents put me in therapy and the therapist said to let me live as a boy. I felt right that way, okay? I didn't feel like me when people thought I was a girl." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry I never told you, I figured my genetics and the parts of me you don't see would never be important to you.” Prompto tried to hold eye contact with Noct, but his gaze was on the floor now.

“They're not - but - I…”

“Is that why you get all bitchy?” Gladio sneered. “You on your period?”

“I've never had one!” Prompto's face felt like it was on fire, and whatever retort Ignis had spat back, Prompto didn't hear. “I was taking HRT for years, okay?! I hadn't decided how much I wanted to do to be more of a guy, so I just suppressed puberty and - like - it never happened to me!”

Noctis quickly looked up at Prompto again. “So, wait, you don't have boobs?”

Ignis hissed something at Noctis about "inappropriate language" but Prompto shook his head. “I mean, I do, but they're small. Usually I bind.”

Gladio rolled his eyes. “She's probably still got all the rest.”

“ _He_.” Prompto balled his fists again. “You're being an asshole on purpose now. I've been a guy and you've treated me like one since you met me! What I have doesn't matter!”

“Yeah, until it does.” Gladio fixed Prompto with a glare. “We would've never taken a girl on an extended mission like this, the risks are too high!”

“One, Prompto is not _a girl_ , he is a trained member of the Guard," Ignis declared, terse and dangerous. "Second, I dare you to tell that to Crowe Altius.” The name was invoked like a threat, the sentiment hardly a vehement hiss, but Gladio was deaf to Ignis’ building rage:

“Crowe Altius wasn't fucking her comrades!”

“It doesn't matter.” Noctis reached for Prompto and took his hand. “I don't care that you weren't born a boy.” Prompto cringed and shivered, not sure what to say.

“Does Cor know?” Gladio was glaring at Ignis now. “Cor had to know just what he was letting in.”

“Cor _performed_ his background check. Cor still enlisted and treated him like a male. You will note he passed the Crownsguard physicals using the male standards.” Ignis put a hand on Prompto's back. “You've never met a transman before?”

“I don't even know what the fuck that is. But fine. Let him drug himself up so he can pretend to be a guy.” Gladio crossed his arms and scowled at Prompto again. Prompto felt tears prick hot at his eyes.

“I'm not _pretending_.” He smeared at his face, pulling his hand from Noctis’ hold and trying to withdraw into himself like a turtle. “Igs, I don't wanna do this anymore.”

“It's alright.” Ignis turned to him, soft in an instant where he'd been ice for Gladio a second earlier. “We have to give them full disclosure, and they will take it how they take it.”

"Full disclosure?" Gladio scoffed, scowling like he was about to spit. "What the fuck else could there be?"

“Hey - you said you needed something that helps you be a guy?” Noct frowned with worry. “Did you run out? Is that why you've been sick?”

A shock ran through Gladio, and his eyes went wide before narrowing to slits. “No,” he growled, an octave low.

“N-not exactly. I cut it to make it last longer.” Prompto shrank down in shame.

“A mistake,” Ignis intoned softly, and rested his palm on Prompto’s back. “But the damage has been done.”

“Ignis.” Gladio sounded like a revving engine. “I know you aren't stupid. You aren't this stupid. Do not tell me what it sounds like you are about to tell me.”

“Damage?” Noctis’ eyes went wide. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Eventually, I hope.” Prompto took a deep breath. “Noct, I'm pregnant."

Gladio roared to his feet as Noct jolted in place like he'd been struck. “You fucking moron, you knocked him up?!”

“It was an accident!” Prompto covered his face. Noct's face went completely blank. “I didn't know lowering my T would make me have a cycle!”

“What the fuck, Ignis?! You didn't wrap it when you were porking the little freak?!” Gladio stomped towards him, but Ignis held his ground and shifted to stand between Prompto and Gladio.

“You will not insult him so. We used protection as precaution, but we ran out and both believed Prompto's testosterone therapy would prevent conception. It was an accident, but I refuse to regret it!”

Gladio growled, shoving his chair back and sending it clattering across the room. “You don't regret it, huh? Pretty fucking brazen for a fugitive!” He whirled on Prompto, towering over him. “How long?”

“How-”

“How. Pregnant. Are you.” Gladio bared his teeth. Prompto covered his navel.

“Fifteen weeks.”

“Shit, that's…” Gladio shook his head. “Fuck. Fine. If you wanna play house instead of taking your job seriously, we drop you with Iris at Caem and they can have a goddamn tea party while we save our damn country!”

“No.” Prompto stood, legs shaking, but held his ground. “I am not abandoning Noct.” He looked to Noctis, but he was still blank, staring at Prompto in shock. Prompto gathered himself, and held his head high. “I'm ready to face whatever it is we have to face, baby or not. I've made it this far.”

“You idiot.” Gladio crossed his arms. “It's gonna end up being 'not’ with an attitude like that! You go through all the trouble of admitting you lied to us about what you are and that you decided to ruin your own life, just to kill the kid?!” Gladio loomed over Prompto. “Sure, tell us, that way we know why you're asking us to get you a coffin next time you get knocked around and crush the thing!”

“I won't let it happen!” Prompto threw his shoulders back. “I'm not gonna let Iggy's kid get hurt!”

“It won't matter if you die too!” Gladio shoved Prompto down against the bed. Ignis wrested his arms back and pulled Gladio away.

“Don't you dare touch him!”

Gladio struggled against Ignis’ hold, as Noctis, still motionless, stared blankly past Prompto and Prompto tried to cover his head and ears. “It's gonna happen! You'll be fat, slow, and weak, and you're not gonna pull your own weight, let alone keep anyone else alive!" He lurched towards Prompto again, dragging Ignis a step with him, and Prompto cringed back. "I'm not gonna protect you from your own stupidity! It's for your own good!” He broke loose and grabbed Prompto by the front of his shirt. “Face the fucking facts and get out of my way!”

“Gladiolus, how dare you!” Ignis seized Gladio's wrist and locked it, forcing him to drop Prompto. Prompto failed to catch himself and dropped to a heap on the floor. Panic hit him with the impact, and he scrambled out between the beds and their legs to the door, hitching back the first sobs of an oncoming panic attack. Ignis and Gladio were starting to shout at each other, and Noct hadn't moved or said anything. He bolted for his room, too stuck in his own fear to think of doing anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call this Noct's BSOD moment. (let me know if you don't get that, I'm old as heck, y'all.)
> 
> Next time, Noctis actually says something! (Also, Gladio gets some sense knocked into him.)


	12. The Face of a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis and Prompto have an actual conversation, and one by one, word by word, everyone talks things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter got long on me again, but it turns out, everyone had an opinion and wanted to keep talking. Sorry! I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Because Gladio gets it. Good grief, does he deserve it.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**12\. The Face of a Friend**

****“Lying to us for literal years and you want to take him at his word now-”

“He was not  _lying_ , you bloody jackass! He never had a reason to divulge more than he did! He's taken every precaution, and I'll do my part-”

“You did your part, sticking your dick in him or _her_ or _whatever_ \- and what about what you have to do for Noct, huh?! He's your duty! You swore an oath!”

Noctis had been lost in the stratosphere since Prompto had said those magic words (“ _Noct, I’m pregnant_ ,” _wow, holy shit_ ), but hearing his name in Ignis and Gladio's argument brought him back down, and he turned a scowl towards the two of them where they stood, chest to chest, arguing, and broke his silence: “Don't bring me into your beef.”

Noctis was still putting it together. Prompto. Trans. Pregnant. Baby? Prompto was going to be a dad. Ignis was going to be a dad, too. This was big.

And Gladio had been throttling him. That… that wasn't going to fly.

Gladio sneered at Ignis as if Noctis hadn't spoken. “Yeah, and I bet you’ll let him get away with that, huh?” Then, he threw Noctis a harsh look. “So you don't care that he lied to you? A King needs to know who to trust.”

“Prompto had his reasons! Noctis isn't just his King, they're friends!” Ignis was baring his teeth. “How dare you insinuate that he meant to do us harm by deceiving us! He was protecting himself!”

“Yeah, protecting himself while he's supposed to be protecting Noct, just great," Gladio sneered. "And you're okay with letting Prompto kill himself and your freaky love child?”

“I will not let it happen!” Ignis stood tall, chest out, proud and furious. “I believe myself capable enough to do everything Noctis needs of me, tend to the man I love, and protect all of you if I must! There is nothing I would not do for their well-being. If you think yourself incapable of the same, perhaps you're the one who should bow out!”

Gladio wound up, roaring, “You son of a-!”

“Enough.” Noctis jumped up in a single fluid motion, planting himself between Ignis and Gladio. Ignis jerked back, but though Gladio stopped short of throwing a punch, he held firm, teeth still gritted but restraining himself from going for Ignis through Noctis. “That’s enough out of both of you.”

Gladio snarled, "Get out of my-"

Noctis spun on Gladio and struck him in the solar plexus with a flat palm. He may not have been a wall of muscle like Gladio, but Gladio still needed air to be a blowhard. Gladio staggered back, wheezing as he landed on the bed, and Noctis glared at him. "You assaulted a pregnant person who considers you a friend. Good job. Great _protection_ , there, all while complaining about the danger he's in."

Gladio opened his mouth, then froze for a second, and Noctis shrugged. "Or maybe it's consider _ed_ , past tense. I wouldn't want to be your friend after that. Honestly, I'm not sure I want to be your friend right now." He crossed his arms. "He finally works up the nerve to trust us, and you pull that. No wonder he was scared to say anything." Noctis hung his head. "I only barely handled it better, but at least I didn't shout at him or put my hands on him."

“Noctis,” Ignis started, but Noctis shook his head.

“I needed to get my head together, but now my head’s together and Prompto ran out of here crying five minutes ago, and he's all alone. Probably still crying.” Ignis bit his lip at that, though Gladio was unmoved from where he sat catching his breath, and Noctis sighed. “You -” He pointed at Gladio - “are being a dick on an unbelievable level, and you-” he jerked his thumb towards Ignis, “should have chased your boyfriend like four minutes ago after kicking Gladio in the dick. You two can keep biting each other’s heads off, but I’m gonna go talk to my best friend.” He turned for the wall to the adjoining room, choosing not to mention that he could feel Prompto pulling stuff from the Armiger, and warped right through the wall.

Prompto was shoving a few sets of clothes into a pillowcase, not even caring what it was. He couldn't stay, he should have known, _should have bolted weeks ago,_ but now he had no choice. “I could work at the power plant,” he told himself, “I'm getting soft, maybe I can pass-” The thought of pretending he was something he wasn't made his heart heavy, but he had no choice. He'd known it might have been taken out of his hands eventually, but he'd thought he had longer with Ignis on his side. He whined as Noctis’ expression of horror flashed through his head, as the fingerprint bruises where Gladio had grabbed him throbbed, but bit his lip and focused. He summoned his gun and looked it over, hesitating. It had been a gift. This one was the one Noct had given him. “I should… I should leave this.”

“Leave it?” Noctis appeared at his side in a familiar flash of blue. “You ought’a stay with it.”

And suddenly Noctis was squeezing him with an arm around his shoulder. “You said you were coming with me, right? This, that, you, it doesn't change anything. You're still my best friend.” Prompto gasped and struggled, but Noctis didn't release him from the embrace. “Hey, can I ask you something? Why didn't you just tell me you were, you know-”

“A girl?” Prompto cringed, and Noctis went stiff against him.

“I guess it's because… you're not. Like, there's nothing..." Noct motioned vaguely to Prompto. "Nothing  _girly_ about you. Shit, the second I said it out loud, I realized how weird that would have been.”

“It was never important until now. You've never had to care about what was in my pants before.” Prompto closed in around himself, arms folded tight. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth.”

“No, no. It's not important, like you said. You're still my best friend.” He leaned his head on Prompto's shoulder, pulling Prompto to his chest. “I’m happy you told me now. I'm sorry your big announcement went like this. I'm sorry I froze up. If you're feeling low because I kinda shut down, I'm so sorry. I just…" He swallowed hard, trembling and hugging Prompto tighter. "I needed to process all that because _holy shit_ you're going to be a dad.”

Prompto didn't want to taste hope in those words, anticipating the bitter rejection. “Um… I guess parent is… closer, if you feel weird about it-”

“Yeah, okay, but it's exciting! Six!” Noctis slapped him on the back, then straightened up and held him at arms' length. “You and Specs are gonna have a kid! How excited was he?”

Oh. Noct was _excited._ Prompto hadn't expected that.

“Um. Well. He said we had to… not have them... because it'd be too dangerous.” Noctis’ hand tightened on his arm. Prompto had to dodge the flash of anger in Noct's gaze, flinching and turning his eyes low. “But, um, he changed his mind. He wants them. He's kinda happy, I think. He actually smiled so much he cried a little at the sonogram.”

“Okay, there's a lot to unpack there, but, seriously?” Noctis grinned a little. “Like, actual tears?”

Prompto nodded hard. “He was really happy to see them.”

“Them?” Noctis cocked his head.

“Um. Singular neutral pronoun, y'know? I dunno if they're a boy or a girl yet, and I dunno if I wanna know until I meet them.” His chin sunk to his knees, and he curled tighter on the bed. “But every time someone calls my baby ‘it,’ I feel sick.”

“Got it. Iggy Junior's ‘they’ until further notice.” Then, there was a glint in Noctis’ eye. “You saw them? Is there a picture?”

“Kind of,” Prompto chuckled, then dug the printout out of his pillowcase. “This is from today. It's not really clear, but-”

“Whoa.” Noctis gingerly pinched the edge of the page. “Can I?” Prompto nodded, and Noctis took it and examined the image. “It's like an alien. But I can kinda see a baby, too.” He waved the page. “This is inside you?”

“Right here.” Prompto put a hand over the bump, then used both hands to frame the space right under his navel. “Um, they're ten centimeters, or like, four inches long from head to toe, so super tiny still. I can feel them right here though.” He poked at the spot. “They're barely there right now, but the doc said I should start wearing looser pants soon.”

“Wow. And you made that out here.” Noctis turned back to the sonogram image, like he couldn’t tear his eyes away, then carefully sat down next to Prompto. “This … probably wouldn't have happened if we'd never left home, huh?”

That statement shook Prompto. He'd sort of known, but it hadn't been laid out so plainly. “I guess if I kept on without bottom surgery or anything, if Iggy and I decided we wanted our own kids someday…”

“But this is kind of a happy accident. At least something good is gonna come out of all this.” He carefully handed the sonogram images back to Prompto. “Hey. When they're born, do me a favor. I don't want to be ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘King Noctis’ to your kid. Can I just be Uncle Noct?”

Prompto tasted his heart that time. “You mean that?”

“Yeah." Noctis nodded. "I just want to be their dad's best friend. I'm gonna tell Iggy the same: in front of Junior, I'm just Uncle.”

Prompto reveled in that relief: Noct was okay with this. “Do ya one better, man.” He nudged Noctis’ arm. “You wanna be godfather?”

“Seriously?” Noctis’ eyes went huge. “Yeah, I do!” He actually laughed a little, then turned his face down. “It's weird, like, I never wanted to have kids, even if I'm supposed to, Royal line and all. I just don't think I'd be a good parent.” He fidgeted, fingers twisting on the comforter. “But I want to meet your kid. And spoil them rotten the second Lucian money is good currency again.”

Prompto snickered. “Aw, man, you just want my kid to be a brat like you.”

“Absolutely.” He smiled wanly. “Mostly because they're yours. I want them to be healthy and happy, and when they're here, I'm going to be their favorite uncle and godfather. So, before you keep planning to run away, or before I hold you down and make you stay, I want to ask: do you think you'll be able to have a healthy, happy kid with us? Or should we set you up with Iris in Caem until we deal with the Empire?”

Prompto realized what Noctis was doing. He was giving Prompto the choice. “I know it's probably safer for me to make tracks. I'm not that dumb.” He bit his lip. “But staying behind means leaving the three most important people in my life. You guys are my best friends. I don't want to turn my back on you, Noct, not now, not ever." Noctis patted his shoulder, and Prompto shivered. "I want to help you as much as I can. You're like a brother to me, you know?”

Noctis furrowed his brow. “I know. Will you promise to take good care of your kid?”

“Absolutely, for sure. As best as I can.”

“That's all I needed to hear.” Noctis yanked Prompto's pillowcase from beside him and dumped it out onto the floor, and Prompto squawked and scrambled down after it to scoop up his stuff. “You're with me, yeah?”

Prompto looked up to see Noctis holding a hand out. “Always. Ever at your side, For King and Crown, the whole shebang.” He squeezed Noctis’ hand, and Noctis grinned and pulled Prompto back up.

“Let me get that. You sit." Prompto tried to protest, but Noctis waved it off. "Seriously, you chill for a minute, you're still coming down. I can tell. I’m gonna put all your stuff back, right where it’s supposed to go.” Noctis got down and picked up Prompto's clothes. Prompto pulled his legs onto the bed, then bit his lip.

“Hey, um… Gladio…”

“Hey, um, _fuck_ Gladio.” Noctis handed Prompto a pile of his clothes and returned to sitting on the bed, then started folding it. Not very neatly, but he was _trying._ “You need me to work an apology out of him?”

Prompto shook his head. “Um … if he doesn't want me around…”

“No, seriously, fuck him. I decide who's allowed and who's not allowed to come with me. I'm King, after all.” Noctis patted Prompto's back. “Is him being an asshole a dealbreaker?”

“The last thing I wanna do is get in the way.”

“You won’t be. At this point, I don’t wanna let you out of my sight.” Noctis pulled Prompto close. “Not even kidding, man.”

“It’s just… Gladio…”

“I told you," Noct muttered into his shoulder, "he can get fucked.”

“And Igs, he-”

“Iggy said something to you?” Noctis sat back.

Prompto bit his lower lip, and Noctis’ brow furrowed. “It was before, y’know, today. He really wasn’t happy about the baby for a little bit there.”

“Right, I did mean to come back to that. You did say he didn’t want to… you did say he told you to - hey, when he was being a jerk the other day, was he actually being a jerk about…” Noctis’ eyes were going wide as he started putting things together. “You didn’t actually fall asleep looking at garula, did you? Iggy chewed you out and you just didn’t want to come back, was that it?”

Prompto shook his head. “No. It’s, um, not like that, I just… I went out there to be alone after Iggy got mad at me, and I fell asleep, and I was so tired I didn’t wake up.”

“You’re having his baby and he was being nasty to you.” Noctis narrowed his eyes, and Prompto bit back a whimper.

“Noct, he didn’t mean it, honest. He apologized and everything.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s alright!'

Prompto flinched and held his hands in front of him. "H-hey, can we go back to bitching about Gladio? And not shouting at me?"

Noctis blinked, then schooled his features. "Yeah. Sorry. Actually, let me do you one better. You stay here.” Noctis jumped up. “I’m gonna be back in ten and I want you to tell me everything.” He bounded out the door, and Prompto winced, wondering just what 'everything' meant. 

* * *

Ignis had been ignoring Gladio for fifteen minutes, busying himself with something in the kitchenette. Gladio had caught his breath and was pacing impatiently, glowering at him. “You aren’t even gonna try to actually explain yourself, are you? Not even gonna try to explain this 'trans' shit, or why you're letting him get away with throwing his life away?”

“For the first, Gladiolus, I find myself without the patience to give you a lesson. For the second, it's simple: I love him,” Ignis murmured, broken and exhausted. “I love him as much as I love Noctis, albeit in a different way. He loves me so much he’s willing to risk his bodily integrity to carry my child. I can’t say no to him, no more than I can deny Noctis.”

Gladio scoffed. “You make Noctis eat veggies no matter how much he hates them. If you care about Prompto, you’d protect him from his own stupid self and either make him abort or drop him somewhere away from the fighting.”

“Gladio.” Ignis’ shoulders tensed. “Everyone who must make this decision knows the risks. He considered it himself, before he told me about the baby, but he found out he couldn’t bear the thought of ending the pregnancy. Hearing you throw it in his face again - insulting him - hurting him again-” Ignis stuttered, then turned back to the book he had open on the counter, his palm landing too hard on the counter. “I didn’t comfort him, I failed him again. He keeps crying. I don’t want to watch him cry anymore.”

Gladio frowned and crossed his arms. “Seriously?!" Ignis hung his head, but busied himself with a set of measuring cups and a large bowl. "You're actually hung up on this?!" Gladio wavered between disgust and doubt. “You really do love him, huh?”

“More than I did the day you caught me pining over him and told me to ask him out." Ignis sorted through the measuring cups, hands less than deft and fingers shaking, then began to measure out flour. "More than I did the night of the ball, when he asked me first. More every day since then. My body and life belong to Noctis, but my heart is his.”

Gladio snorted. “Your sentiment will get him killed. Probably Noct, too.” He bared his teeth like a wolf, escalating again: “You ever think of him when you were fucking the twink and shielding your damn love child, when you swore your loyalty to him?!”

Just then, Noctis warped in holding a convenience store bag. “Hey. Assholes. Update.” Noctis held up the bag and two spoons. “So Prompto’s not crying anymore but it turns out Iggy was a bigger asshole to him than either of you let on at first, plus Gladio's still a fucking asshole who was a dick when he was trying to share one of his deepest secrets-" Gladio grimaced a little, Ignis shuddered and Noct went on- "So me and him and Iggy Junior are going to eat this whole entire pint of praline-bacon ice cream together and complain about you two.”

Ignis hung his head. “Noct-”

“You told him to kill your baby because I’m more important to you than him.” Noctis popped the ice cream pint open, and the tension in the room went as taut as a piano wire. Gladio started and whipped around to face Ignis, as Ignis’ shoulders dropped. Noct dug one of the spoons in deep, and went on: “Then, you let Prompto -  _your boyfriend_ - sleep outside instead of, y'know, talking to him and comforting him that night because you ‘wanted to see if he’d come back on his own.’ Your exact words, if I recall correctly.” Noctis took a big spoonful of ice cream and stuffed it in his mouth as Ignis seemed to sink even lower. Gladio gawked as Ignis shriveled, and as Noct swallowed. “Yeah. No. Whole pint. He needs a goddamn friend and if neither of you-”

“I’ve got a surprise for him,” Ignis murmured, scrubbing his eyes with his fingers. “I would be deeply grateful if you could keep him busy while I try to make up for my latest transgression, but please don’t force him to eat if he’s not hungry. His appetite is iffy.” Noctis raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Whatever. Oh, and I’m the godfather-slash-uncle now. Bye.” Noctis phased through the wall again, and Gladio turned to Ignis.

“So.” He crossed his arms. "That's three of us who took his 'big news' well, huh?"

“Six, Gladio, I lost my temper, and he smiled in that horrible way he does when he’s about to say something terrible about himself and told me he’d rather let himself be captured than kill my child!” Ignis pounded his fist on the counter. “I tried to be logical! But I let myself get sentimental because, yes, I love him, and because I believe we have a future beyond just fighting for that future! I’ve seen the baby now. I felt the same joy he feels when he thinks of them. I know how very foolish this is, but… if it were someone you loved so dearly, and your child, and if they so wanted to have it, what would you…” He trailed off, as Gladio inhaled.

“I wouldn’t take a girl with us, for damn sure.” Gladio shook his head, but turned his eyes away. “I’d probably contact my friends with the Glaive, have them set up a safehouse." His tones sharpened: "Like what I'm suggesting with Iris.”

“And you'd visit your beloved when you could, I suppose.” Ignis stirred whatever was in the bowl with a steady hand despite his voice wavering. “You'd hope she and your unborn child are well. Resign yourself to the knowledge that you won't be there when she needs you, and hope we have cell phone reception and that the car is in road-ready condition should she call for you.”

Gladio grimaced at that. “I’d rather know she was safe.”

“I fear the only way Prompto will be safe is if I’m able to watch him, every moment.” Ignis reached into one of the drawers, fishing for a pan, still not looking at Gladio. “The moment he threatened to run, I…”

“You imagined him dying without you to protect him...” Gladio had heard his voice waver, and forced Ignis to turn around. Ignis was on the verge of devastation. “That’s it, huh? You’re scared you’ll lose him.”

Ignis was silent for a moment, then murmured, “I promised him we’d have a party when we returned to Insomnia. Announce that we were together, once Noct was over his wedding jitters. I told him there would be cake. If I can’t protect him, there will be no cake. Nothing but my loyalty or duty to show for the choices I made, and a lifetime without sunlight as reward.” He pushed Gladio off. “And here I am, shoving my feelings into work and letting him cry again. Astrals, I don’t deserve him.”

Gladio got very quiet as Ignis turned around again to keep working. “You know, you could still lose him. Have you thought about this? Like, seriously thought about what it’s gonna mean to have him with us when he’s -”

“Of course I have. I considered every option and this is the least logical, least sensible, worst path we could take, but… Prompto.” He shook his head. “Prompto is more dear to me than that, and his heart holds more weight than any logic or sense I have." Ignis' brow knit. "I'm not an automaton, designed and made solely to serve Noctis. I'm human. Humans aren't logical, we're emotional, and if we lose our humanity, what does it matter if we win the war?”

“Hey.” Gladio clapped a hand on Ignis’ shoulder. “I'm no robot myself, y'know. I know I hurt his feelings, but …” He paused, choosing his words. “I don’t want him to get hurt in a way we can't fix. That’s why I want him to go somewhere safe.”

“He feels unworthy of us already. Any talk of sending him away only sounds like rejection to him.” Ignis pinched his brow and brushed Gladio off, returning to measuring flour into a bowl. “He doesn’t want to leave Noctis, but he can’t betray his heart, and he’s been on the verge of a breakdown trying to balance the two.”

Gladio snorted and turned towards the wall. “Shit. I’m not gonna say I was wrong, but … damn.” He faced Ignis, even as Ignis began cracking eggs into a different bowl. “Still don’t get the whole ‘trans’ thing, either. Like, isn’t it fucking weird that he looks like a guy but he’s a girl?”

“He is _not_ a girl.” Ignis gripped the bowl tight as he whisked the eggs with a fury. “He was _designated_ a girl. He perceives himself male, and wishes to be seen as male.”

“But he’s obviously got girl parts! You stuck your dick in ‘em at least once!”

“Gladio!” Ignis ceased stirring to heave a disgusted sigh. “Are you sincerely telling me you have never met a transgender person before?”

“No.” Gladio crossed his arms. “Guys are guys, girls are girls, and crossdressers are crossdressers.” He flipped a hand at Ignis. “What, is this something I missed?”

"Noctis has fielded multiple petitions from transgender support groups requesting protection and anti-discrimination laws. I had to discuss the meaning thoroughly with him so he could confer with Regis, and he understood the concept, even if our recluse prince never knew he'd met a transgender person until tonight." Ignis paused. "Additionally, my Uncle Ventus was born my aunt, but he had been male since long before I was born and was buried a man, just the same.” Ignis continued to refuse to look at Gladio as he stirred.

“Oh.” Gladio snorted. “Weird.”

Ignis sighed again, as his frustration overtook what anger he could feel over his own disappointment at himself. “Let's try a different approach. Gladio, you perceive yourself as male, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Duh. I’m a guy.” Gladio said it as if it were obvious.

“And is your genitalia the sole defining trait of that?”

“It’s pretty damn important, yeah.”

“And if you should lose your testicles in a fight tomorrow, would you still be male?”

“Hey!” Gladio instinctively covered the join of his legs. “Of course I would still be a guy!”

“And if you were castrated?”

“Don’t even.” Gladio covered himself with his other hand. “I’m a guy, dammit!”

“Gladdy?” Iris had poked her head in just then, brow furrowed, and came in carrying her purse and a shopping bag. “What’s the matter? We all know you’re a guy.”

“Maybe you’ve got some sense.” Gladio motioned to Ignis. “Iris, if a person’s born with girl parts, they’re a girl, right?”

Iris frowned, then looked between Ignis and Gladio. Then, she cocked her head. “Oh, Mr. Scientia, were you DFAB?”

Gladio frowned. “De-what now?”

“I was not, no.” Ignis bit his lip a moment.

“Oh.” Iris turned back to Gladio. “Designated Female At Birth. Seriously, Gladio?” She rolled her eyes. “There’s a couple DFAB and DMAB guys in the Glaive and Guard, since a lot of trans people sign up. The health plan’s really good, you know?”

Gladio raised his eyebrows. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

She snorted. “Because you went to military academy instead of public school and you never read background checks. You take everyone at face value.” Now Iris was scowling. “What am I missing?”

Gladio snorted. “Iris, get this - Prompto? The blond guy? He’s a girl.”

“Oh! Gladio!” Iris stomped her foot. “Don’t just _out_ a guy like that! It’s none of my business, he'd tell me if it was important!”

“What?” Gladio’s jaw went slack, and Iris groaned and dropped her shopping bags.

“I can't believe I have to do this. Mr. Scientia, I’m really sorry about him.” Iris seized Gladio by the hand. “You get your oversized butt in here, we have to have a talk!”

Ignis heard the door slam shut as Iris dragged Gladio in with her. He kept measuring, sugar, vanilla, yogurt, and heard the low rumble of Gladio's voice and Iris' pitchy, squeaky response. He beat the eggs in one at a time, as their argument escalated, then mixed the flour, baking powder, and salt in a separate bowl. He poured alternating portions of milk and flour in, and had only just gotten the second portion of milk in when he heard something slam against the wall and an enraged "Dammit, Gladio! If you don't know, ask questions! I don't care how mad you are!" He poured the finished batter into a round pan greased with butter and dusted with flour as Iris stormed out. However, she did stop and force a smile at him.

"Congratulations on the baby, Mr. Scientia!" She beamed, but her fists were shaking. "I'm going to get some air and check on Talcott. Don't wait up for me." With that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. A moment later, Gladio staggered out. Ignis spared him a glance, only to see him looking like he'd gotten punched in the face in everything except a bruise to show for it.

"Uh. So. Apparently I'm an asshole because I've never heard of this whole trans thing." Ignis hummed, as Gladio stumbled over to the chair. "And apparently, it's totally normal not to tell people you're pregnant until the second trimester, since that's when it becomes less likely someone'll miscarry." He ran a hand down his face. " _Fuck_ , the snake, no wonder he freaked out."

Ignis paused, and shivered. He had forgotten himself and trembled to think of Prompto, in fear, alone, how his hands had been shaking... "I… don't know that was his intention. He was frightened we'd reject him. He did not wish to be alone yet."

"Yet," Gladio repeated dully. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Sort your thoughts and wait until Noctis has finished comforting him.” Ignis shook his head. “He’ll regret it with the morning sickness, but I believe Noctis’ acceptance is worthy barter for an ice cream headache and a calorie overload.”

* * *

“Your favorite.” Noctis put down a bottle of kale-apple smoothie on the bedside table. “That's what you keep getting yourself, right?”

“Oh, wow, thank you!” Prompto grinned and grabbed the bottle, and Noct chuckled as he sat down next to Prompto again.

“I noticed you getting 'em lately. Between that and the time I saw you eating Gysahl greens-” Prompto squeaked - _Noct saw that! -_ and Noctis raised an eyebrow at him. “Dude, are you having cravings?”

“Cravings?”

“Yeah, like in health class, they said weird food cravings were a symptom of pregnancy.” Noctis popped the top on the ice cream pint. “I swear.”

“Whoa.” Prompto rubbed the back of his head, staring at the bottle like it held revelation. “Holy crap. I'm so craving leafy greens. Like, if you put a head of dino kale in front of me, I'd _destroy_ it.”

Noct had to strain to stifle a snicker. “That's so weird.” He held up the spare spoon. “If Iggy Jr. changes their mind, you can have some ice cream too.”

"Mm." Prompto grimaced. "That's gonna go right to my belly, huh?"

"Dude, I'm pretty sure everything will these days." Noctis laughed through his nose as he took a spoonful. "You have a really good excuse to eat whatever you want. Go for it."

“Aw man.” Prompto bit his lip, then took a long drink out of his bottle. "It's cool. Thanks, dude."

"Anything for you and my godkid." Noct ate another big spoonful. "So, tell me everything."

"Everything?"

"Yup." Noctis licked the spoon and jammed it back down into the ice cream. "Start with how you and Iggy got together."

Prompto did. Everything from meeting Ignis and crushing on him, to getting together, to Ignis comforting him after Insomnia fell ("I just… really needed a hug, y'know? And the touching just kind of led to more, and Gods, Noct, I really needed to feel loved…"), to finding out about the baby and spending five weeks in terror, down to Ignis' rejection and subsequent plea for forgiveness, and then the sonogram. "And now we're here."

Noct scraped the bottom of the ice cream pint, eyes wide. "I noticed something." He nudged Prompto's thigh with his knuckles. "You were always alone for the hard parts. You never said a word and kept it all to yourself." Prompto bit his lip, and nodded. "Stop that. I'm your best friend. Share with me." He sat up and punched Prompto's arm. "You should've told me about your stupid crush! I would've set you up."

"Noct," Prompto whined, as Noctis mussed his hair.

"And on the airship? Like. I'll kick that Ardyn guy's teeth in." Noctis cracked his knuckles. "I'd dig the Titan up and knock him down again if I could. Same with that snake! And Gladio pushed you? He challenges you to a race, runs you ragged, and then shoves you to the ground?!" Noct glared through the wall, before looking back to Prompto. "He's on the shit list. If he or anyone says a word about you or the baby, same offer stands."

Prompto was getting teary, and sniffled and cleared his eyes. "Same goes for you. No matter what you need, I'm there for you."

"Hey." Noctis reached forward and dried Prompto's cheeks. "Quit that."

"S-sorry, I think it's the pregnancy hormones. I've been crying way easier." He tried to clear his eyes again, but Noct smearing the tears away only made new tears fall faster.

"I'm sorry," Noct muttered, and let his hands fall to his lap. "And… hey, as for Specs? I'm sorry I'm kinda between you. But, uh, I do kinda still need him. I promise I won't keep him from you or anything, but if I need him..."

"It's okay! It's his job!"

"I'm not gonna let his job get between him and his life. You and Junior are important to him too." He grinned as he sat back. "I've never seen him get mad like he did at Gladio before, like, before I interrupted them. Like, he gets mad, but not _that_ mad. I'm not all that surprised he cried when he saw the baby, either. I think he's more emotional when it comes to you, because he can be." Prompto sat up even as the tears welled again, as Noct dragged little lines in the comforter. "I think I noticed it when you met him. It was like you lit a spark in him. But, you kind of helped me light up, too.” Noctis moved to sit next to him and slung his arm around his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re my best friend and that you two are a couple. And I’m glad you’re sticking with me.” He mussed Prompto’s hair. “Thanks for telling me where your head’s been. Promise me you’ll share from here on?”

“Mhm. No more secrets, not from you.”

“Good.” Noctis grinned. “So, I’m gonna go bully Gladio into giving you an apology. You wait here and dry your eyes.” He paused, hesitating as Prompto smeared at his face. "I kind of want to hug you. Are hugs cool?"

"N-no way," Prompto giggled through his tears. "Hugs are super uncool. But I want one anyway."

"Yeah, I thought so." Noctis wrapped his arms around Prompto, then stood back. "I'll go have words with Gladio." He walked out that time, and Prompto, alone again, crawled under the blanket and tried to cheer himself up.

Then, he thought about Gladio, and shivered as tears rushed back.

* * *

Noct returned to the larger suite to find Gladio sulking on the bed and Ignis standing at the cutting board. They were deliberately not looking at each other. Noctis scoffed and put his hands on his hips. "Any reason you're hiding in here?"

"I'm doing penance." Ignis kept chopping evenly, but Noct saw him halt a moment, hands quivering. "Is he…"

Noctis decided he wasn't interested in entertaining Ignis' one-man guilt trip. Instead, he pivoted to Gladio. "You."

"I'm an asshole," Gladio muttered, then dragged his fingers down his face. "I get it. I still feel like he lied to me even if he had a good reason, and I'm pissed he's putting himself in danger on purpose, but I don't hate him. I'll talk to him, but he needs to understand how I feel. Just. Maybe in nicer words."

"Yeah?" Noctis glared down at him. "You been working on those 'nicer words?'"

"Yeah. Am I clear to talk to him?" Gladio stood, shoulders still slumped. Noctis studied him.

"Go apologize." He flopped onto the bed. "Make it good, too." Gladio just grunted and trundled towards the door, still gathering himself. Noctis watched Ignis from his prone position.

"Whatever 'penance' is, it smells good." He smiled wryly, then put his ear to the wall.

* * *

Prompto had curled up on the bed, the cover thrown tight over his face. Noctis’ absence made the still-stinging slap of Gladio’s rejection ache again, but he tried to will himself through it. He took deep breaths, in and out, centering himself around his own heartbeat, then around the other faint pulse he knew was there. “It's okay,” he told them, because it had to be okay for them, they needed things to be okay. “Iggy and Noct won't let him hurt us.” He choked. “Maybe Gladio won’t hate you, once you’re born.” He was a lost cause, for sure, and he had to choke back another sob as he wallowed in the pain of losing one of his few friends.

Stupid hormones. They made literally everything worse.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Prompto curled closer around himself. There was silence, then another knock. “Prompto, it’s me.” Prompto moaned under his breath when he heard Gladio through the door. Here he was, here it came. “I’m coming in, but I’d rather you give me permission.”

Prompto really didn’t want whatever this conversation was going to be yet. He tried to pull his knees closer to his face. The door creaked open, and Prompto heard Gladio sigh over him. “It’s like you’re trying to make me feel worse. Look, I feel pretty bad about talking shit already, I'm here to apologize. Come on, we need to talk and I’m not talking to a blanket.”

“You already said what you had to say.” Prompto turned down into the pillow. “Go away. N-Noct… Noct said I could stay, so, I’m staying.”

“Don’t be stupid. You really think Ignis would stand for you running off on your own right now anyway? He’d track you down like a bloodhound and drag you back.” Gladio patted over the quilt until he found Prompto’s shoulder. “Talk to me. I wanna see your face.”

Prompto flipped the quilt off of his face, and Gladio grimaced. Prompto imagined he was a snotty, swollen, red-faced mess, but he didn’t care. He just smeared the dried tears off of his cheeks and sat up, then curled his knees close again. “What is it?”

“Look - no, stand up.” Gladio hooked Prompto’s elbow - Prompto flinched, but Gladio didn’t notice - and lifted him to a stand, then looked him up and down. “You said… fifteen weeks.” Prompto was about to spit something at him, but Gladio shook his head. “We ain’t feedin’ you right. My mom was already out to here when she was having Iris.” He motioned with his hands, and Prompto remembered that he was the only one of them who had a younger sibling.

“Why do you care?” He folded his arms around his chest again. “I’m just gonna die anyway, aren’t I?”

“Believe it or not,” Gladio ground out, “I’d actually really prefer if that didn’t happen.” He scowled, but Prompto realized he wasn’t angry. He was upset. “It’s the morning sickness, ain’t it? You haven’t kept enough down. You need to eat.”

“Iggy...  Iggy's gonna take care of me.” Prompto hung his head. “He said he was gonna get me some special MREs and stuff to make sure I can eat, like when we’re out on long hunts and can’t get fresh food all the time.”

“Yeah? It’s something.” Gladio was somber as he ruffled Prompto’s hair, still examining him. Prompto froze up when Gladio touched him. Gladio might have noticed, because he left his hand there deliberately, resting his palm, heavy on his head. “I guess the body armor was to help protect the baby too?" Prompto nodded, and Gladio clicked his tongue. "Shit, man. No wonder you've been a mess." Prompto cringed, wishing he could have ducked out of his touch at the same time as he enjoyed the gentle contact. "Look, I went off on you and that was shitty. First off, lemme just say I shouldn’t care what you got in your pants. You’re still a good guy.”

“Mm.” Prompto nodded, and Gladio sighed.

“Look, I just - I ain't ever seen anyone like you. I don't know what to make of it, okay?” He rubbed his head. “I'm trying to figure it out - Iris set me straight, but I'm still putting it together - but as far as I can tell, even if you’re a girl, you're a man 'cause you feel like a man.”

Prompto grimaced and finally ducked out from under Gladio’s hand. “If that's what helps you get it, sure. It’s more complicated than that, but if that’s how you understand it...” He trailed off, and Gladio sighed and clapped Prompto on the shoulder.

“I'm trying. Seriously. I'm trying. I mean, you’re really good at acting like a guy!” He moved his hand to Prompto’s back, but Prompto shook his head and tried to shrink from his touch.

“Y-you’re really not helping.”

“Ugh.” Gladio groaned and pinched his brow. “This sucks. I don't get it, but I want to for your sake. I just don't yet."

"It's... it's okay." Prompto pulled his face into a smile. "You don't have to get it right the first time. Just, all you gotta get is, I'm a guy. I'm a guy who's having a baby."

"Y... yeah." Gladio made a face, and put his hand on Prompto's shoulder. "Uh. That. I, uh, said some out-of-line stuff there too. I should... I should tell you the part you don't know. So, uh, my mom?” He hesitated, and Prompto felt his fingers fidgeting in the weft of his battered vest against his neck. “She… a few days after Iris was born, she got sick. Real sick.” Prompto glanced up, and saw genuine sorrow in Gladio’s wrought brow and downturned mouth, eyes set squarely on the floor. “She was never all that strong, but when Iris was born, she got sick, and she didn’t get better. They said she got an infection in her uterus and went septic. She died when Iris was two weeks old. I was eight.” Gladio crossed his arms. “She had the best medical care in Lucis, the second-most technologically advanced society on Eos. She was really well taken care of. And she still died just from having a baby." Gladio's face worked, brows knit up, before his shoulders slumped. "We’re in the shit out here, Prompto, and I get that this was an accident but it could be the accident that gets you killed. I want better for you than two early graves.”

Oh. Gladio was  _scared_ , Prompto realized. He didn’t want to watch a friend die like he’d watched his mom die. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Again, you didn’t get knocked up on purpose, and you’re brave as hell to try to push through with Noct with that on your shoulders.” Gladio poked his little belly, and Prompto shrank back with a squeak. “And if you think I hate the munchkin or you, then you’re wrong. I'm not happy, but you're still a friend, and I'll learn to like your kid.” Prompto covered the bump with both hands, and Gladio reluctantly smiled. “Hell, this is my fault. I was hoping you and Specs could make nice. You made that because of it. If that kid’s as important to you and him as Noct, that’s your decision. I can’t make you do what’s best for you, but we’re getting you a bigger gun and a scope, and if you come within fifty paces of a goblin you’re eating nothing but those damn MREs ‘til you learn your lesson.”

Prompto stuck his tongue out. “Are MREs that bad?”

“Cup Noodles are high cuisine by compare.” Gladio grinned and mussed Prompto’s hair. “And hey, who knows? For all I know, I’m all worked up over nothing. We'll dethrone the Emperor next week, then go home and throw you a baby shower once you're all nested up in Iggy's apartment in the Citadel. I'll build a cradle and everything.” He paused, seeming to consider Prompto for a moment. “Your kid’ll probably be real cute anyway.”

Prompto rolled his eyes and snorted. “It’s Iggy’s kid, I’m gonna be stunned if they’re anything less adorable than, like, the model babies you see in commercials.”

“Yeah, they -” Gladio stopped cold, going stark still and wide-eyed. “They?”

Prompto snorted. “Why do I gotta keep explaining this? It’s a perfectly good singular gender-neutral pronoun.”

“Singular! That’s what I needed to hear.” Gladio wheezed with relief and patted Prompto on the shoulder. “Okay, so, are we cool?”

“I think so.” Prompto bowed his head, and to his surprise, Gladio wrapped an arm around him.

“I think so, too. So, Iggy’s gonna have a meltdown if you don’t tell him you’re not going to run away, so let’s go show him we made nice. Then, we can get you to a proper doctor, get you loaded up on vitamins, and make sure we don’t gotta double your portions, ‘cause if the Six decided it’d be funny to saddle your narrow ass with two on a whim, we’re in trouble.” Gladio ruffled his hair one more time, and Prompto felt suddenly much better.

“Sure, but don’t call my kid a munchkin! They are a perfectly sized regular donut!”

“Not until you’ve got an actual tummy. Talk to me when you're craving donuts. Or potato chip milkshakes, or pickles and ice cream, or whatever that kid's gonna make you think is delicious.” Gladio snickered as he and Prompto walked for the door. Prompto scoffed and jabbed at Gladio’s ribs.

“All I've been craving is salad. The rest of that stuff sounds awful! When you’re tasting every meal twice, you pick ‘em carefully.”

“That bad, huh?” Gladio paused. “Yeah, you were sick a hell of a lot, I guess. Your hormones are probably screwed." He paused again, clearly mulling things over. "Fifteen weeks, you said?” His whole form seemed to stutter, and Prompto frowned as his pupils dilated, like he was looking at something very, very far away.

“Gladio?”

“Hey. You found out five weeks ago, you said?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry, there was no good time to tell-”

“No, no, fuck, not that.” Gladio sucked air in through his nose. “No, that means that when you faced the Titan, the Deadeye - when you put yourself between me and Ravus, you knew you had a baby in your belly.”

Prompto bit his lip. “Uh. Yeah. I found out the last time we left Lestallum, so, uh, I knew then.” Gladio shuddered, and Prompto touched his hand. “You’re one of the only friends I have, dude. I wasn’t going to let him -” Gladio abruptly shoved Prompto’s hand off. “Hey, Gladio-”

“Don’t you dare put me ahead of the life of your baby ever again.” Gladio walked past Prompto, still refusing to look at him, right as Prompto did the math: Gladio had just figured out he’d had a pregnant person as human shield, and the humiliation Ravus had dealt him had probably just doubled up with guilt at knowing that. “Come on. Iggy said he was doing penance. Pretty sure he'll have an anxiety attack if you don't go tell him you're not having an emotional breakdown.” He shoved the hotel room key into Prompto’s hand. “You go. I gotta go take care of some stuff.” 

Prompto bit his lip as Gladio stormed off. He faintly recalled what Ignis said about making bad decisions when one was afraid. Gladio had definitely made his share of those tonight, but he was trying to make right. Prompto wasn't sure what that would mean, but Gladio was right about that much: he was _trying_.

* * *

Ignis was in the kitchenette in the other hotel room. Prompto could see his shadow from the door. Noctis was lounging on the chair, feet on the bed, eyes closed, but he winked one open when Prompto shut the door. “Iggy said Gladio was going to talk to you. Did he?”

“Uh-huh.” Prompto nodded. “Then he figured out that I knew about the baby when Ravus… y’know, and I got between them, and he said he needed to go do something. I’m pretty sure he meant ‘break something.’”

Noctis whistled. “Shit. Maybe I need to go talk to him. But, uh, you.” Noctis pointed at the kitchenette. “You should maybe go make sure your boyfriend isn’t having a total breakdown. I might’ve given him additional shit for, y’know. All this.”

Prompto chuckled, then peered into the tiny kitchen as Noctis hopped up and left to stalk Gladio down. Ignis was slumped over in one of the chairs at the breakfast nook, face in his arms, until Prompto tapped him on the shoulder. “Iggy? Um, I’m back.” Ignis sat up and twisted around, eyes wide. Prompto could tell he’d been struggling with an upset, on the verge of breaking but never letting himself go. Prompto got down on his knees and kissed his forehead. “Sorry I, uh-”

“You did nothing you didn’t have a right to do.” Ignis cupped Prompto’s face in his hands, then stood and lifted Prompto to take his chair. “I wish that this whole evening had gone better, but it seems we’ve managed it. Did Gladio apologize?”

“Uh-huh.” Prompto blushed a little as Ignis sat him down, then knelt in front of him and laced their fingers together.

“And Noctis - godfather _and_ uncle, my love?” He smiled with deep affection, and Prompto grinned.

“He said he never wanted our kid to call him ‘Majesty.’ I thought Uncle was a good compromise." His cheeks went warm, but he quieted at the next words: "Plus, I know if anything ever happens to you, or to me, Noct … well …”

Ignis' brow knit up, but he bowed his head. "He'd make certain our child would be cared for, yes." His expression softened. “For you, I imagine he’d do nearly anything in his power. It’s comforting to know the same extends to our child.”

“Yeah, exactly. Um, sorry I didn’t ask you first.” Prompto smiled sheepishly.

“Fortunately, I find it an agreeable arrangement.” Ignis kissed Prompto’s hands. “You’ve been so brave. I know that this was not at all how you wanted to announce our relationship to our friends, but we’ll make the best of it.” He stood and smoothed Prompto’s hair. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

He turned to the counter, and Prompto noticed a cloche-covered dish and sat up, eyebrows raised. Ignis brought the plate to the table and unveiled it: a small cake, round and golden, sprinkled with a bit of confectioner’s sugar and topped with sliced strawberries. “I owed you a cake. You said you wanted strawberries.”

Prompto couldn’t keep the tears from his eyes when he realized what Ignis had done. “I totally said I wanted strawberries.” He watched Ignis carve two small slices and brought over a plate and a tissue.

“I used yogurt to add protein, and it’s not frosted, so it will make an excellent breakfast, as well, but I wanted to share this with you tonight.” He kissed Prompto’s cheek and dried Prompto's eyes as he delivered the plate and a fork. “Thank you, my love. You’ve been brilliantly patient with me, and you honor me by carrying our child.” His hand quivered as he set the plate down. “And… I wished to apologize again… for how…” Prompto glanced up to see his face wrought and pained.

“Igs.” Prompto took his hand again and spoke softly. “No more sorries tonight, okay? I know you feel super bad about the other night, but we’re okay now.” He reached into his back pocket and found the sonogram image. “Today was a good day, ‘member?” He held up the sonogram. “We got to see them. Plus, they got an uncle!”

Noctis cleared his throat from the door. “Uncles like cake, too.”

Ignis and Prompto both turned to see Noctis had returned and was  leaning against the door, pretending to look at the ceiling. Ignis smiled fondly and cut a third slice. “We had intended to have a small party with all four of us to celebrate, somewhat.”

“Yeah?” Gladio spoke from behind Noctis, and Prompto looked to see him seated on the bed behind Noctis. He smiled, though he looked immensely tired. “Good thing all of us are here.”

The four of them sat on the bed with cake balanced on their knees. Gladio swiped the sonogram photo from Prompto and studied it, actually pointing things out to Noctis about the ears and eyes. Prompto listened keenly, and Ignis joined in, mentioning that he wanted to ensure the baby heard their voices early and often. Gladio suggested baby names: “I’m thinking Noct’s got it right with Iggy Junior for a boy.”

“I dunno, I wouldn’t want ‘em to have to live up to Iggy!” Prompto laughed, and Ignis snorted.

“I’d rather they surpass me.”

Noctis smirked. “So, Noctis Junior, then.”

“For a girl maybe, princess,” Gladio sniped, then winked at Ignis. “How about Gladiolus the Second?”

“Neither of you are the father, you don’t get Juniors or Seconds!” Prompto protested, as Ignis stifled his own snickers.

“I think we’ll decide on the name ourselves.”

“Free reign on nicknames, though.” Gladio poked Prompto’s middle again. “Ain’t that right, munchkin?”

Prompto smacked Gladio's hand back. “Donut! I told you, donut!”

They all talked for a long time, laughing and joking, reminiscing over the last few weeks like they were back home and not lost in a too-big world, and for a few hours, Prompto felt like he was where he belonged again. No matter where they were on the planet, these people, these smiling faces, were his place, and the warm presence inside of him was now part of his own universe. He knew he could face the world outside of his control now that he knew where he stood.


	13. Too Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chocobros move on from Lestallum, but the trip towards Caem can't be easy, can it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait! I kind of plowed through my backlog and I've been working on other stories. I'll try not to keep you all hanging for so long, but I'm only one person and I can't write and play through the game again at the same time, haha... Without further ado!

**13\. Too Easy**

Rested, restocked, and recovered, the party checked out of the Lestallum Leville about a week after arriving. Ignis refused to let Prompto carry anything again, so Prompto resigned himself to waiting, sitting on the side of the fountain in front of the hotel entrance, and sulking as Ignis ferried the luggage cart out to the car without him. Noctis had gone with Gladio for a few last minute things before they set off - Gladio had said something about wanting a new book. Prompto had spent the previous day avoiding Gladio altogether - Ignis took him to the market for looser clothes and for a private date at a streetside cafe. It had been nice to pretend that life could be like this, but they had to move on. Iris didn’t want to be in Lestallum if the Nif armies decided to roam the streets again looking for Lucian nobility, Crownsguard or Kingsglaive members hiding out, or anyone else of interest, and surely Gladio and Ignis were on that list. Noct was, if not still assumed dead, at the top.

“Guess Lestallum’s gonna have to be a sometimes place, huh?” He looked down when he spoke. He had to look, _really_ look, but he could see the little curve through his tank top and armor. “It’s okay. Hopefully we’ll get to Altissia soon, and then, once we can meet up with Luna, we can figure out how to get back home.” He paused. “Or, how to get home back.”

"Hey, man.” Prompto hadn’t heard Noctis approaching, but he was grinning where he stood a few feet away. Prompto blushed when he realized Noctis had heard him talking to the baby, but Noctis didn’t give him even a little grief. “They’re with you and Iggy, right? That means they’re home.”

“Y-yeah, I guess.” Prompto grinned. “They have you, too, though!” He pumped a fist. "Number one uncle, dude!"

Noct had been super cool about everything, and Prompto was unspeakably grateful for his kindness. When he and Ignis had gotten back to the hotel in the afternoon the day after the blow-up to find Noct playing some sort of competitive puzzle game with Iris, Noct paused the game to announce that he and Iris had been shopping too. Iris had blushed furiously and presented Prompto with a squishy, round baby chocobo plushie and a timid, “Congratulations on the baby! Sorry you didn’t get to tell me yourself.”

Noctis, too, had bought a bunch of baby stuff as a show of support. Prompto spent about half an hour in awe over it all. There was a little onesie with a baby chocobo on it, a bib that had the word “KWEH” printed on it, and little Carbuncle and Moogle-themed baby socks. He’d also gotten Prompto a shirt: a maternity tee (Prompto could tell from how baggy it was when he held it up) with a yellow diamond like a caution sign with an image of a cracking egg on the front and text reading “Baby On Board.” Prompto had nearly died laughing, and Ignis had to suppress his own mirth at Prompto’s joy even as he scolded Noctis about ‘wise spending.’ Noctis had smirked nonetheless, too pleased with himself as he stored their things in the Armiger.

Even now, Noctis was grinning. “Yeah, you know it. Right with ya.” He gave Prompto’s shoulder a light punch. “I got a call from Cindy, she and Cid are going to meet us out there. Apparently now that the Empire’s been backed out of the Duscae area, they can get to Caem, and there might be something in Caem that'll give us a way to get to Altissia. Good news there, right?”

“Hell yeah, man. I can’t wait!” Prompto couldn't help but reflect Noct's optimism with enthusiasm, and Noct grinned back.

“That’s the spirit. The four of us, we got this. I’m gonna hit the head, you wait here for Gladio, okay?” Noct gave him one last slap on the shoulder and jogged into the hotel lobby again. Prompto bit his lip as he was left alone with the thought of Gladio.

Prompto wanted to say he was still Gladio’s friend. He wanted to say he was cool with Gladio. He sure wanted those things to be true, but he still felt unsteady when he thought about Gladio. Ignis had made clear that he’d accepted Gladio’s apology to Prompto (for the sake of making peace) but privately promised Prompto that he would intervene if Gladio said anything hurtful. Prompto, for the moment, would rather avoid talking to Gladio one-on-one at all, and had done so for the past few days, dodging him in the hallway and avoiding making eye contact at shared meals.  

He still had bruises. 

There was a soft impact to Prompto's hip as someone sat beside him. Prompto flinched. “Hey.” Gladio sounded as smooth as ever, but Prompto didn’t dare look at him. Gladio wasn't exactly looking at him, either. “How ya feelin’ today?”

“Mm. Good.” Prompto shrugged a little, and saw Gladio studying him out of the corner of his eye.

“Were you sick this morning? You look… better.”

“Um. No, actually.” Prompto bit his lip. “Iggy thinks that I’m not puking as much ‘cause I’m less stressed, and, um, it’s supposed to be easier in the second trimester.”

“Yeah? Yeah, I heard that. The second trimester’s actually supposed to be kinda nice, especially after the first.” Gladio chuckled through his nose. “I mean, the headaches, the morning sickness, the mood swings, the… risk…” His eyes slid over Prompto’s chest to the edge of the bruise on his shoulder. “Uh. It's supposed to get better. I heard that before.” Gladio turned his head, but put a bag down next to Prompto’s thigh. “I got you something.” 

Prompto nervously took the bag, then peeked inside. A book. How bad could a book be? Prompto pulled the book out and looked it over: a pregnancy guide. Prompto flipped it open, and Gladio turned, quickly going to point. “See, it’s got sonogram pictures for every week, and what the baby’s doing, and it’ll explain some stuff you might be experiencing or feeling. Here’s week sixteen on page - you mind?” He had his finger on the pages already, but looked to Prompto. Prompto was already sitting forward with interest. 

“Flip away!” 

Gladio turned the pages and spread it out when he reached the destination, and Prompto gawked at the sonograms, the diagram of the baby sitting inside a uterus, and cheerful text: _“Your baby is about the size of an avocado! Their legs and arms are getting stronger, too. You may feel little pops and flutters, or ‘quickening’ as your baby’s movements grow strong enough to be felt…”_

“Whoa. It says I might be able to feel the baby moving.” Prompto’s eyes went wide, then he looked at the diagram. His hand rested on his little belly. “Um, that baby looks way bigger…”

“Told you. We’re not feeding you right.” Gladio patted his back, and Prompto flinched and jerked away, wrinkling the page of the book his hand was on. Gladio’s brow knit up as Prompto turned and stared at him. “Hey...”

“Sorry.” Prompto closed the book and made himself smile for Gladio. “This was really nice of you! I’ll read it in the car.” He backed another step away. “I’m sure it’ll help a lot, thanks!” He hopped up from where he was sitting, just as Noctis came back with Iris in tow. Noctis eyed Gladio for a second, then slapped Prompto on the back. 

“We good to go?”

“Yeah, totally!” Prompto fell in beside Noctis and Iris, and Gladio, sighing, followed behind.

The trip would be a trip, in more ways than one. Prompto wasn’t sure he was ready, but just like the rest of this adventure, he hadn’t been ready before it had started but he’d gone for it anyway. 

* * *

They were hardly three hours out of Lestallum when they spotted the flying fortress. Prompto had thought it was a drop ship, and hadn’t relished the thought of dealing with a bunch of MTs with Iris in tow. However, Gladio put something together as it passed overhead:

“I’ll bet my eye teeth that’s the fortress that did the raid on Lestallum.” He bared his teeth like a mad dog on a chain as he sat forward, way too close to Prompto’s shoulder. “Why don’t we pay them a little visit?”

Prompto swallowed hard, but nodded. Ignis and Noctis agreed too:

“Justice for Jared.”

“For Talcott, too.” Prompto’s heart ached when he thought of the little boy left without his guardian. Whoever had decided it would benefit the Empire to slaughter an old man with a grandson didn’t deserve even a moment’s hesitation. 

They left Iris at the motel in Old Lestallum, and made their way to Fort Vaullerey on foot. It was night by then (the sun had set weirdly early, hadn't it?), and after casing the entrances, Ignis and Noct decided the best approach to capturing the master of the fort would be stealth. They waited until they spotted him on his rounds, and Noct and Ignis split off. Gladio and Prompto were left behind, alone together, and as the minutes stretched in silence, with Prompto cycling through all of his weapons and making sure his guns were loaded and Gladio listening for signs of trouble, the tension between them got thicker and thicker.

"Hey. Uh." Gladio broke the silence after a few minutes, stubbing a toe in the dust behind the walls. "If, uh, if this gets messy, promise me you'll stay back?" 

Prompto grimaced, then studied the fort from where they stood. He saw a flash of blue as Noct warped up a tower and took down the guard, then warped back down. "Better plan." He dialed Gladio on his phone. "Leave my call open. Don't expect me to talk much, but you can talk to me. I'll holler if there's an issue." He pointed to the tower. "I'll make my way up there, I just saw Noct clear it out. Iggy said no climbing trees, but that isn't a tree, and it's a good vantage point. I'll support from there. Hopefully that MT didn't drop its gun too far from where Noct mashed it." He readied his pistol in case he met trouble between here and there. "See ya." He strolled away, as Gladio stared, dumbfounded. 

He felt a little proud of that. Take that, Gladio, he knew what he was doing.

Noct had cleared out the path for him, so he was able to creep around the dark fortress to make it to the tower unimpeded. From there, he stepped over the husk of the MT, picked up its dropped rifle, and took position facing into the fort. From there, he saw Noct take out the hook-nosed officer. Ignis rushed in after him, bound his wrists with a length of electrical cord, and dragged him out. Just as he cleared the gate, there was a ruckus from inside, as the whole base came to life. 

Prompto knew what to do. He heard a rustling from the open call on his phone, then saw Gladio run in to join Noct, readying his sword. He heard them greet each other, then, _"Prompto?"_

 _"Sniper tower. Eleven o'clock."_ Gladio pointed, and Prompto waved, hoping his shadow was visible against the starlit sky. _"He's on my speaker."_

Prompto tapped his phone's receiver in his pocket. "Hey, Noct. I got your back."

 _"Knew you would. Let's go."_ Noct and Gladio ran into the yard under Prompto's view, just as a mech emerged from the basement. 

Prompto still felt his heart race as he laid down cover fire and blasted back MTs as Gladio and Noct dealt with the big trouble. Prompto heard the explosions and crashing and clanking of the fight. Ignis joined the fray after a few minutes, and heard him shout, _"Prompto! Where-"_ Prompto made a point of shooting the MT soldiers nearest Ignis, and Ignis spun in his direction as they fell. _"Up there? Clever, darling!"_

Prompto chuckled. "Thanks, Igs. Hey, watch out!" 

The fracas went on, but there was a rhythm to it, an ebb and flow that set in when the four of them were at each other's backs, surrounded but never daunted. The only difference was that Prompto was thirty feet up from the spotlit parade grounds, and when the mech fell this time, he was cheering their victory from a distance as Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio ran back and away from the shrapnel. He steadied his rifle over the edge of the lookout tower to help take out the last of the MTs on the field, but just as he got it steady, a lance with a gleaming red glow hit on the post of the sniper tower right next to the barrel, and a woman in black armor and clothes landed on the lance's shaft.

Prompto stared, dumbfounded, because _how the hell?!_ His mouth tumbled open, loosing an inadvertent "Oh, shit." The woman in armor was steady on her narrow post, her arms crossed, feet at pointe, and as he scooted back and away from him, she smirked at him through the bars on her visor.

"Oh. What did that man say? Right: 'Don't hurt the blond boy.'" She stomped down on his rifle's barrel, knocking it out of his grip, and he scrambled back so the butt of the gun wouldn't hit him in the face. She laughed. "Doesn't mean I'm going to let you hurt me. Do me a favor and stay out of the way, cutie." She winked, then dropped off of her perch, grabbed her spear and dove down to the field. Prompto gawked as she jumped back down and launched herself at Noctis and the others. Prompto rolled back up to the railing and pulled a handgun from the Armiger to take aim, but was stunned as she knocked Noctis back with ease, and Prompto heard her through Gladio’s phone: _“Hello, pretty boy.”_

And then she kicked their asses.

Prompto had never seen anyone move like the dragoon lady, the way she leapt around like Noct could warp. The way her spear glowed red reminded Prompto of something: “It’s like the MTs.” Except MTs were nothing like her, because he could _hit_ the damn MTs! It took everything he had to line up what few shots he could! "This isn't looking good!"

 _"She's formidable, but keep looking for an opening."_ Ignis sounded deadly calm, even as Gladio roared behind him and took another swing at their lithe foe. Prompto tried not to feel at all satisfied that Gladio and Ignis weren’t landing any hits either, stuck playing backup and keeping the MTs away from Noctis and the dragoon as they tried to chase her down. Watching the two of them warp across the skies in pursuit of an opening on the other was a sight, like a light show or fireworks, but ended in a fizzle when Prompto shot the last of the MTs, and she warped on top of a tower out of Noct's range.

"Quittin' time," she announced, throwing them a saucy salute, and Prompto could imagine her winking. "I'm not getting paid overtime to play with you. Maybe some other time, pretty boy." Then, she jumped again and was gone.

Prompto climbed down the tower to find Noct slumped on the broken hull of a mech, downing an ether like a parched man, and Gladio swearing to himself and patching his scrapes and scratches. Ignis was straightening his collar, but when Prompto rejoined them, he forgot his sleeves in favor of looking Prompto up and down, then touching his cheek and turning his head this way and that. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, totally." Prompto brushed Ignis' hands off. "How about you, lemme see you!" He circled Ignis, fixing his sleeves and using a cloth to wipe the mess off of his glasses. Ignis flushed, clearly bashful at Prompto's attentions, as he chattered, "She knocked that rifle out of my grip, but that was the worst I got. Funny, she said-"

"'Don't hurt the blond boy,' yes. We heard." Ignis furrowed his brow, as Prompto turned his attention to Gladio. 

"Need some help? You got a pretty bad gash on your back."

Gladio grunted and handed Prompto the bandages. "Potion me first, I can feel it." Gladio turned and held still, but eyed Prompto sideways. "Wonder who 'that man' is."

"I can only think of two possibilities, if she is indeed employed by the Empire." Ignis ticked them both off on his fingers: "Ravus Nox Fleuret, or Chancellor Ardyn Izunia."

"Why would either of them want to help Prompto?" Noct asked, frowning. "Ravus hates my guts, and you guys by association." 

"But he pretends honor, so if he perceived Prompto's condition at our prior encounter, before any of us did… But how..." Ignis trailed off, frowning, but Noctis and Prompto traded a look.

"Ardyn did. You said you thought he did, Prompto."

"Y… yeah. He was definitely dropping hints that he'd figured me out, back at the camper." Prompto winced at the memory: 

 _"_ _Man_ _handling, you say? I should think not."_  

"And… the airship. He caught me puking." Prompto tried to forget what Ardyn had said, focusing instead on patching Gladio's cut. He didn't miss the tight, disturbed set of Gladio's mouth, and tried to convince himself he was just in pain. 

Ignis' sharp expression told Prompto he had not forgotten Ardyn's words that Prompto had repeated to him, but he merely exhaled sharply as he thought. "The wording she used matches his speech patterns more closely, as well." He crossed his arms. "A curse on the pompous man. I like him less each time our paths cross?"

"Question is, why is he protecting Prompto, or any of us?" Noct sighed and flopped back against the mech's metal casing. "It makes no sense."

"Unless he has some specific end in mind for us," Ignis muttered, then shook his head. "Then why specifically protect Prompto?"

"Who knows?" Prompto really didn't want to think about it anymore. "The real question is: dude, how hot was that dragoon lady?"

Noctis and Gladio groaned, and Ignis shot Prompto a shocked look. "Prompto!"

"Seriously, you're spoken for." Gladio scowled at him over his shoulder. "You like _guys._ "

"I like tall, confident, and able to kick my ass! No gender restrictions." Prompto grinned cheekily. "Besides, 'spoken for' doesn't mean 'blind.' Right, Noct?"

Noct was obviously trying not to laugh. "Wouldn't know. I was too busy looking down the business end of that Magitek lance." 

"Aw, boo. Next time, right?" Prompto stepped back and turned for the exit. "If there is a next time."

"Let's hope not." Ignis fell in alongside Prompto, then nudged him with an elbow. "After all, that impertinent woman gave our quarry a chance to make an escape. If all you can focus on is how _hot_ she is, I'll have to be cold to you."

Prompto gasped. "Iggy, you'd let me freeze to death on your cold shoulder?"

Ignis smirked a little. "I-cy what you're doing there. Don't act like a chill'd, you blizz-erve reprimand after ogling that woman when she tried to kill us." 

Prompto laughed, but slung his arm around Ignis' waist. "Aw, Igs, come on. If I'm about to die, I'd rather have it be thinking about how hot my murderer is than how much pain I was in."

Ignis was quiet, then sighed and relaxed into Prompto's touch. "Trust you to make light of even that."

Gladio and Noctis fell in behind them, and Prompto took Ignis' hand as they walked. "I wasn't in any danger, babe."

"I'm aware." Ignis brow formed a frown again, his gaze fixed to the horizon and the rising sun. "I'm grateful for that, if nothing else."

Revenge had not given them satisfaction, only more questions and exhaustion. 

* * *

The next morning, Prompto woke up achy and sore. The only room in the Three Z's had two double beds, one of which had gone to Iris and the other to Noctis and Prompto. It was still a lumpy bed, and Noctis wrapping himself around Prompto in his sleep hadn't made it better. Knowing Ignis was sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag made him uncomfortable in a different way was the final straw on the back of a rough night of sleep. He rose and stretched, wringing a groan out of himself as his bones settled. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and realized he had something to smile about:

"Not even a little nauseous this morning, huh, baby?" He rubbed his belly proudly, only to find the swell more distinct than he remembered. He actually  _had_ a belly. He went to grab his pants and tugged them on, only to find they didn't button. Then, they did button, and felt like he was squeezing the life out of himself.

Come to think, had they been a little tight yesterday, too?

"Shit." Prompto slid his skinny jeans off and stared forlornly at them. "I'm getting bigger." 

_Heavy._

Prompto tried to brace against the anxiety that welled through him at that thought, but before he could sink into the obsessive circular angst of gaining weight and being rejected, he heard a yawn from the other bed, then a rustle of blankets as Iris sat up. She blinked a few times, rubbing her eyes, then looked right at him and gasped. "Your tummy's showing!" She hopped up and bounced over to him. "Ohmigosh, how cute! The baby got bigger!" Then she noticed his pants and gasped again. "Oh, no way you're wearing those! You're gonna squish the baby! They need room to grow!"

Prompto got snapped back from the dark place he'd nearly gone with that reminder. "Oh, uh, yeah." The others had started to rouse at Iris' excitement. "I, um, I got some stretchy leggings. I'll put those on instead."

"Good." Iris took his pants and folded them over her arms, nodding sagely like every sixteen-year-old who knew everything about everything. "You have to give the baby lots of room. Mr. Scientia is pretty tall, so the baby might be tall, too!"

"You think?" Prompto grinned. "Yeah, I guess so." With that simple reminder, Prompto shoved his insecurity down. The baby was growing. That was it. Prompto couldn't help but notice Ignis smirking as he sat up in his sleeping bag. He knelt down next to him and kissed his cheek. Ignis kissed his lower lip in return, then kissed his fingertips and pressed them to Prompto's middle. "I'm proud of you," he whispered, then showed off a rather cocky grin. "I'm proud of our little one for outgrowing those pants, too."

"Are you seriously getting smug because your baby killed my pants?" Prompto muted a laugh, as Ignis wagged an eyebrow and kissed the corner of his mouth. 

"It seems to be easier for me to get you out of those pants all the time." 

There was a _whoosh_ as something flew past their heads, and Prompto whipped around to see Noct had pitched his pillow at them. "No being gross in the shared room." He rolled over onto Prompto's pillow. "Royal decree."

Prompto blew a raspberry at Noct, then got up to get on with his day.

* * *

 The trouble with getting bigger was that it usually didn’t happen in just one place. Prompto became intimately familiar with this as they waded up into the Myrlwood:

“I’m gonna get the chub rub _so_ bad,” he groaned as the water wicked up his leggings. Iris, too curious about the notion of the Royal Arms to be left in the car while they took a peek around the swamps, nodded sympathetically as she hopped along behind.

“I wish I’d worn waders or something, too. My biker shorts aren’t cutting it!”

Gladio and Noct traded befuddled looks, as Ignis sighed and pinched his brow. “Is there anything that can be done for it, darling?”

Prompto winced as his foot plunked down into a deeper patch of water and splashed up his legs. “Skinnier thighs.”

“Hey!” Iris pinched his arm. “My thighs are fine! So are yours! Only models have thigh gaps!”

“At least you’ve just got muscle!” Prompto stuck his tongue out at her. 

“Uh,” Noctis spoke up, waving a hand. “So I’m ignorant here, what’s ‘chub rub?’”

“It’s when one’s thighs rub together in actions such as walking or running, especially when wet, essentially causing a friction burn.” Ignis sounded embarrassed to have to say it out loud. Noct hissed.

“That sounds like it sucks.”

“It does,” Prompto moaned. “It’s the _worst_ kind of pain.”

At this, Gladio scoffed. “You’ve been sliced up and shot a few times. I’m pretty sure you’ve been in more pain than a friction burn. Plus, you’ve gotta give birth in five months and change, so if you’re talking about how much something hurts-”

“I didn’t say worst pain! Worst _kind_ of pain.” Prompto wagged a finger as he splashed along. “Stuff like cuts and bruises, that’s from doing my job, or maybe an accidental trip and fall. The chub rub happens ‘cause you’re too fat to stop it from happening!” He turned to walk backwards, as Ignis sighed and shook his head. “Plus, when I first started running and I’d get all sweaty and stuff, I’d get the friction burn so bad it actually rubbed the skin raw, and then the little bit of blood from that would get all mingly in the sweat and run down my legs, and do you _know_ how embarrassing that is?!”

“Darling,” Ignis reminded him sharply, “You are not-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Prompto groaned and pivoted back around, then promptly tripped face first into a puddle. Ignis hurried over and picked him up.

“Are you alright?”

“I was wrong.” Prompto sputtered and smeared water from his face. “Hits to the pride are even worse.” 

 “Still gonna disagree,” Gladio remarked, as he held his arm out to summon his sword. “Whatever is about to come out of those rustling bushes is probably way worse than that.”

“Wh-” Prompto and Ignis turned to the bank, just as a voretooth bounded out of the underbrush and released a horrible snarl. Prompto and Ignis drew their weapons just as Noct pitched his lance towards it and warped after it, and for the moment, the discussion was moot. 

With the Royal arm in hand and the sun setting too soon for them to make it back to the motel, they made their way to a haven to bed down for the night. Ignis made green curry stew, and Prompto ate way too much, way too fast, then crashed in the tent. 

He roused a few hours later, blearily aware that his bladder was full but equally unwilling to move. As the unstoppable force of his digestive system debated with the immovable object of his exhaustion, he heard someone talking outside the tent.

"... Messed up." Gladio. Prompto looked left to see Iris and Noctis back to back on the far side of the tent. Ignis was likely with Gladio, who muttered "I know it. We all know I was too hard on him, but this is how I know to be. I have to be tough, or they won't take things seriously."

"Inflexibility is a weakness in its own right." There was a faint crackle as the fire settled. “I think Noctis is doing his best to grasp the situation on the whole. Prompto has had a significant curveball sent his way, somewhat of his own doing and somewhat by chance.”

“I’m pretty sure this whole mess was a curveball. None of us could have…” Gladio exhaled in a whuff. “But… at the fort. I was trying to tell Prompto to stay behind me, but he just… did the phone thing and walked off to take cover in the tower. Like he didn’t want me to protect him.”

“Prompto insisted to me that my duty, and yours, must be to Noctis. He said he did not want protection.”

“Yeah, but-” Gladio struggled, then sighed. “He’s…”

“Yes?” Ignis almost sounded like he was enjoying prying, but perhaps he was just too inquisitive.

It took a long time for Gladio to answer, but when he did, it was reluctant and sobered: “He’s not talking to me unless he has to. Noct’s hardly looked at me, either. I get it, I pissed them off, but I’m trying to do better, so what the hell is wrong with me?”

Prompto sat up to listen closer. Ignis hummed, then murmured, “Change is not instant. You can’t simply force your familiarity. From conversations with you, Prompto, and Noct over the past few months, you’ve let your frustrations make you less than kind. This is not to say you’re known for being gentle.”

“Yeah?” Gladio scoffed. “I hope not. A weak shield protects nothing, right?”

The only noise for a long moment was the crackling off of the dying fire, the embers swallowed by ash. Ignis spoke after a stretch. “What is ‘weak,’ Gladio? What does weakness mean?”

"You tell me."

"I could quote the dictionary at you, or you could tell me what that word means to you."

This silence was long, too. Finally, Gladio huffed again. “Getting my ass handed to me by someone smaller than me.”

“Is that all? For me, weakness is failing to learn and grow stronger, or failing to live up to my responsibilities. I have often wondered over the years if I can be enough to be Noctis' right hand as well as a good partner to Prompto. If there is enough of me for both. They both need so much, and yet the rewards from each are more valuable to me than my own life."

"Huh." Gladio sounded contemplative, and Prompto, still eavesdropping, grabbed at his aching heart. "How'd you finally figure you can handle both?"

"I'm still not certain I can. However, I am willing and ready to take a leap of faith for them. You'll never know for certain unless tested."

"Tested," Gladio repeated. "Have you been tested?"

"In a way. I'm still not certain I've performed to satisfaction, but I won't give in, even if I should fail." Ignis was quiet. “I will never give up. They both need me.” 

“Huh. Yeah. It ain’t easy.”

“It’s easier when we’re all together.” 

“Yeah.” The chair creaked as Gladio stood. “I’m gonna get some shuteye.” Prompto heard him trudge closer, and curled up tight. Gladio entered, and Prompto heard him shut the door, then stand, silent for a moment. He dared peek, only to see Gladio gazing down at Noctis, expression unreadable. Then, he pulled his boots off and got into the sleeping bag next to Noct’s.

Prompto waited until he could hear him snoring before bolting out to the treeline for relief. Even as he was covering his tracks, however, he wondered just what lessons Gladio was taking from that conversation. As he returned, watching Ignis snuff their campfire for the night, he wondered what sort of test Ignis thought he might face, and just what that would mean for him, or for both of them.

As he lay back down, he wondered if he should have been shutting up about discomfort for something he chose and feeling guilty for making things harder for everyone.  

* * *

 Cape Caem was beautiful, and the sea air felt good in his hair. He took it in with a deep breath, and in lots of photographs. 

He definitely wasn’t avoiding Cid. Definitely wasn’t avoiding Talcott or Cindy either. Nope, he was hanging out on the cape next to the memorial stone, trying to get the perfect shot of the wild sea, just because he wanted to. He didn’t think about what he was missing as he avoided the conversation and facing the consequences of his actions again. He sighed a little as he gazed over the sea, finally lowering his camera from his face as the wind caught his hair again and pulled a cloud over the sun like a fluffy blanket, dulling the light and letting his weariness catch up with him again. 

“Hey,” he said to someone who both was and wasn’t there, and loosed a sigh. “We’re doing okay so far, right? It hasn’t been too hard, right? I’m taking good care of you. I’m doing my best to help.” He bit his lip, then closed his eyes tight. “Altissia can’t be too far away, can it?”

Altissia was like a promise. Get there, and they’ll have accomplished their mission. He had no idea what that even meant anymore or what came next, but if they could just get there, it would be something, right?

“I hear it’s pretty there. You think you might wanna be born there?” He paced a few steps, keenly feeling the extra bulk at his waist as it rubbed against his shirt. “I dunno how long we’ll be there. Maybe once we’re all safe there with Luna - um, Lady Lunafreya, it’ll be a good place to set up a base of operations, to figure out how to take back Lucis. Insomnia. That’s home.” He bit his lip and splayed his fingers over the bump. “It’d be good for us to have a safe place, at least. It won’t be easy…”

“But if it were too easy,” Ignis interrupted from nearby, and Prompto saw him standing near the edge of the footpath, smiling fondly, “it wouldn’t be worth it.” Ignis opened a beckoning arm. “You look weary. Come inside and rest.”

“Um.” Prompto tottered towards Ignis, feeling unsteady on his feet. “Um, what about Cid?” He put his hand on his middle. Ignis shook his head.

“If you’re not ready to mention it to him, then he likely won’t notice. If he should say anything unkind, I’ll intervene.” Ignis kissed Prompto’s nose, and Prompto winced.

“You, um, shouldn’t have to. S’why I’m out here. Trying to stay out of the way.” He backed away, but Ignis looped an arm around his shoulders.

“You are not in the way. We’re all in this together. Come inside, won’t you? Noct was wondering where you were, and Cid’s just about finished his assessment of King Regis’ secret boat.

Prompto bit his lip. “As long as you think nobody will mind.”

“None shall.” Ignis gently steered Prompto towards the door. “And… Love.” Ignis squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry I cannot make this more pleasant for you.” 

Prompto relented when Ignis kissed his forehead. "I kinda knew what I was getting into. I'm sorry I'm making things harder."

"It's worth it." Ignis escorted him back in to rejoin the others. The lighthouse smelled faintly of petrol inside, and though it turned Prompto's stomach, he managed to keep the green out of his cheeks as he followed Ignis to join the others. 

Cindy ended up being the one who gave Noct the news: the boat would take weeks to fix, if it could still be fixed at all. Dustin and Monica were procuring parts, but there was something they were having no luck in finding: "Mythril ore." She rubbed her chin as she mused over it. “Though I’m pretty sure that little fella from the city had some idea about it when he heard.” 

Cindy was too preoccupied with the boat to look at Prompto twice. He would have been a little hurt at being ignored by a pretty girl, but given his current level of self-confidence , maybe that was for the best. 

It was Talcott, who'd been waiting on the porch with Iris to talk to Noct, who caught Prompto off-guard when he spun on them after telling Noct what he knew: "Oh, Mr. Scientia! Mr. Prompto! Miss Iris said to congratulate you!" He beamed proudly at Ignis and Prompto as Noctis, already in conversation with Iris, looked up the Vesperpool on his phone's GPS. "Congratulations on the baby! Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Um." Ignis and Prompto looked at one another, then Prompto glanced to Iris for a moment, and then they both shrugged.

"I'm afraid the fetus isn't quite developed enough to tell."

"Yeah, we don't know yet." Prompto smiled sheepishly.

"I see." Then, Talcott cocked his head, not-so-subtly looking Prompto over from bottom to top. "Miss Iris said you were born a girl, but you decided you felt more like a boy, so you're a man but you can do things women can do. Is it true? Can you be a man just because you want to be?"

Prompto's cheeks got hot. "Oh, it's not that simple. Um-"

"Because I want to be a cactuar when I grow up!" Talcott bounced on his heels. "Can I?"

Ignis stifled a chuckle, turning to hide a smile, and Prompto grinned. "I dunno. Do you feel like a cactuar, or a human?" He gave Talcott's arm a little pinch. "You feel a lot like a human to me."

"Ow!" Talcott laughed, then poked his own skin. "Yeah, I feel like a human, I think."

"Then that's your answer." He mussed Talcott's hair. "You're a good kid, Talcott. Be strong, okay?"

"You, too. Can I play with the baby some time?"

"It's gonna be a while before the baby is ready to play, but when they are, I don't see why not." Prompto beamed at him, giving his middle a little pat. "Just wait until they get way, way bigger, okay?"

Noctis interrupted just then: "Thanks for the information Talcott, Iris." He turned to the others, Gladio propped against the wall and scowling in the general direction of Jared's memorial, and Ignis still standing at Prompto's back. "Looks like we're headed to the Vesperpool. There's supposed to be an Imperial roadblock, but we'll deal with it."

"So, we're playing errand boys for Cindy?" Prompto grinned at Noct. "I better be careful not to give her the wrong idea, I'm spoken for!"

"Right." Noct smirked and rolled his eyes a little. "We'll set out first thing in the morning."

"Wait." Gladio turned to face the others right then. "Iris. Give us a second." 

Iris furrowed her brow for a moment, then took Talcott by the shoulder. "Uh, okay. We'll be inside then. I think Dustin's making fish stew, and you're welcome to join us." She led Talcott in, throwing Gladio a baleful, warning look, and shut the door behind her.

Gladio turned to the others, but his gaze didn't meet their faces. "So, yeah. You're gonna have to handle this errand boy business without me."

Prompto jerked like someone had stuck a needle in him. "What?!"

"I got some business to deal with on my own." Gladio crossed his arms tight over his chest. "It's something I gotta handle myself."

"You're certain, Gladiolus?" Ignis' brow knit up, and Prompto bit his lip as Gladio gave a jerky nod.

"Yeah. Wouldn't wanna make the job too easy for you, after all." Ignis' expression went blank and unreadable. Prompto would have sworn Gladio had looked at him, but he looked down.

"Noct?"

Noctis' shoulders were tense, his hands flexed, and he had to inhale and sigh before finally saying, "Not like we could stop you anyway."

"Heh." Gladio lowered his head, smiling at the ground at Noctis' feet. "You know me too well. I won't be gone long enough for you to miss me." He strode past them, patting Prompto's shoulder hard enough to knock him off balance as he passed. "Sooner I go, sooner I can come back."

Prompto didn't think he was even breathing as Gladio summoned his broadsword and strapped it to his back as he walked away, until Ignis took his hand and spoke softly into his ear: "His decision has nothing to do with you."

"Let him get it out of his system. We can handle this without him." Noctis motioned towards the house. "Let's get some chow. I wanna call Cor and see if he can get anyone to scope out the Empire's holdings there." He put his arm around Prompto's back, and Ignis took his hand. 

"We've done fine so far. He'll be alright. I believe him when he says this is something he needs to do." Ignis nodded. He was clearly resolved and at peace with Gladio's departure, but though Prompto followed the others back in while launching into a distracting conversation about what kind of fish Noct might feel in on the jetty near the cape, his mind still lingered.

Had Gladio left because of him? 

That conversation he'd had with Ignis suggested he was part of it, but maybe there was much more to it.

Even so, he spent the night sharing the spare bed with Ignis fast asleep beside him, reading the baby book Gladio had gotten him by his flashlight. He only paid half attention, reading the same passage over and over and learning nothing from it, instead caught up in wondering how much harder things might get, between the Vesperpool, Altissia, and whatever came after.

_You're only going to get heavier. You're only going to have more to deal with. They'll keep trying to kill you. You'll only be more of a nuisance._

_Did you think it would be easy? You've been wrong about everything else so far, why would this be any different?_

Ignis turned in bed and threw an arm over Prompto's torso. His unconscious embrace around his waist chased those thoughts back like a lamp in the darkness, his cheek rubbing against the fabric of his sleep shirt. Prompto noticed him smiling, aglow in the dim moonlight. He leaned down and kissed Ignis' cheek. 

_It's okay. We'll take every step as it comes, no matter how hard it might be. We'll make it as long as we're together._

He tried not to think of Gladio, alone, and stroked Ignis' hair until rest came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick interest poll: I was thinking of doing a side-story to this one with POV switches and maybe some Explicit scenes set in this story. I'd absolutely want to do a POV switch for chapter 8 and 9, and maybe a chapter about Ignis pining for Prompto before they got together. Would anybody be interested in reading something like that? If so, what sort of things might you want to see?
> 
> Thank you, as ever, for reading! Please let me know what you think!


	14. Weak Link

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few days of rest at Cape Caem, Prompto, Noctis and Ignis head to the Vesperpool to be tested again by a somewhat familiar and not especially friendly face, and Prompto tests his limits and feels the strain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the delay! I've been busy and/or distracted with [some](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183257) [other](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19286428) [projects](https://twitter.com/promnisbigbang)! 
> 
> Plus, odd as it sounds, the hardest parts of this fic to write so far have been the parts where I've had to stick closest to the original plot of the game. So, getting through this chapter was a little difficult, but I did my best. Please enjoy!

**14\. Weak Link**

"There is no way."

Prompto withered under Noctis' glare. "C'mon, Noct."

"Hell no." Noct subtly kicked Prompto under the table. "You're having a baby, act like it."

"Noct," Ignis warned under his breath, glancing to the parking lot then around the rest of the diner. "Don't make a scene."

"Hey, it's your kid, you should be on my side!" Noctis dumped a huge handful of his fries onto Prompto's plate. "You need to eat more than that salad and that little piece of grilled salmon!" 

“I don’t want those!” Prompto groaned, as Noctis piled them high and Ignis pinched his brow. “I’m already getting fat.” 

“You are not fat, dearest.” Ignis gave Prompto a stern look, and Prompto shrank down.

“It doesn’t feel like a baby yet. It just feels like I’m getting fat.”

“You’re _supposed_ to.” Noctis crossed his arms. “You’re eating for two!”

“One of those two is the size of a tomato.” Prompto started picking the fries off of his plate and tumbling them onto a napkin. Noctis scrunched his nose.

“Can we not call Iggy Junior a gross vegetable?”

“Junior,” Ignis said somewhat haughtily as he leaned in towards Noct, “is approximately half a pound, and only six inches from head to toe. Prompto only needs an extra two-hundred calories daily in order to build the placenta and nourish the fetus as well as account for other adjustments to his body chemistry. I assure you I am helping him track his diet to ensure he does eat enough.” Ignis shot Prompto a considering, fond look, and gingerly removed the rest of the fries Noctis had dumped on him. “Prompto will eat a healthful carbohydrate with dinner. If he does not want this particular greasy, over-salted starch, that is his prerogative.”

This was, mercifully, the worst conflict Prompto had faced in a week.

The days without Gladio had been surprisingly easy and peaceful. Noctis had called Cor, as promised, and the party of three took on a few easy hunts near Caem while they waited for him to investigate. The three of them wanted to be certain they could operate effectively without Gladio’s muscle to back them up. Prompto thought they had done well, but he was still tired after even easy hunts, so Ignis mandated as much down time as they could make.

Noct had also wanted to try fishing at the jetty, and Ignis was willing to indulge Noctis. He’d seemed a little sulky after Gladio left, but since he didn’t voice any complaints, Prompto didn’t do much more than gently humor his quiet grousing and tease him back as he watched.

“Gladio’s gonna miss out on this one,” he remarked as he reeled in a salmon big enough to filet.

“His fault for wandering off during spawning season,” Prompto chirped back, clicking his tongue, before settling back in the camp chair behind Noct on the dock and flipping a few pages in the pregnancy book. “Let me make sure I can eat that, myself.”

Prompto took the chance to relax, to seriously read the book, and to think about his own next few steps. He could practically feel his pants getting tighter by the day - even the new ones he’d gotten in a bigger size! He could feel his armor digging in on his chest, and it was getting more and more apparent that he had an extra passenger. He needed to be ready for what was coming.

The book was a lifesaver, since he couldn't just call a doctor whenever he got panicky. He tried to rely on Ignis, but Ignis would often do the same thing he would: retrieve the book from the Armiger and leaf through it until he found an answer. Ignis would hug him while they read it together, arms wrapped around his shoulders:

"Based on what I'm reading, little pangs in the legs could result from increased pressure on the sciatic nerve." He pursed his lips a moment, then kissed the shell of Prompto's ear. "Uncomfortable, but normal. Poor darling, would you like me to rub your legs?"

Prompto snorted as he eased out of Ignis' arms to face him. "Um, here's the _rub_ \- the pain's up here." He turned and circled a space on the back of his upper thigh, just below where femur met pelvis. "You sure you wanna be massaging that?"

Ignis' face crinkled with amusement. "Absolutely, love, though you'll forgive me if my hands stray." Then, he winked: "Say the word and I'll have you well in hand."

He wasn't kidding, either. Ignis would massage anything Prompto said was aching. _Anything._

The book had more than just "is this normal" questions and answers. There was dietary advice and a more comprehensive list of things to eat and things to avoid. Prompto found a yoga routine in the book, poses that were supposed to help circulation, and he took to doing some light stretches every morning as he was waking up. Ignis gave him some lotion to help the dry patches on his skin per the book's recommendation, especially for his chest and belly. He started tracking his daily diet, not counting calories but absolutely watching to make sure he was eating a fair share of proteins and carbohydrates, and lots of vitamins. As long as he didn’t have to busy himself with day-to-day survival, he could spend a little more time being mindful of the other person he was keeping alive.

He was trying, he sincerely was. He could swear that he was following the book's advice to the letter. Even so, when they were training, when they were sharing a meal, when they were just enjoying the peace of a few days’ where they didn’t have to run, Prompto still felt a frisson of tension thrumming in the back of his head. Maybe it was when he turned and didn’t have to keep an eye out for a big guy with a bigger sword, or that when they were lounging on the docks or eating dinner at the haven and Gladio wasn’t there to laugh at their jokes, and he felt like it was his fault. Maybe after months of being on the run, Prompto wasn’t entirely sure how to stand still and think about his situation seriously. Maybe it was something else. For whatever reason, Prompto constantly felt tense. It dampened his appetite, and the stiffness never fully left his spine. Not that he could tell the others. They were trying so hard to let him relax. He didn’t want to appear ungrateful.

He still didn’t like the end of their relaxation.

Cor had called three days into their downtime, telling them he had information: the Vesperpool was held by Imperial forces, but for some reason he couldn’t identify, the Empire had been drawing down its defenses in Lucis. There only seemed to be a small force there now, and he had heard no chatter about future movements.

“The Chancellor did indicate that he was ‘taking away the army,’” Ignis had mused as Noctis finished the phone call. “I must wonder where he’s putting it.”

Prompto could only respond with a vague onomatopoeia of “I don’t know,” but Noct had an answer when hung up: “He said he’d see us across the sea. I’m guessing they’ll be waiting for us where we’re going.”

“A vicious welcoming party in Altissia, then.” Ignis tapped his chin in thought, and Prompto grimaced.

“I hope it’s BYOB.”

Days later, they were on their way again, in a diner between Cape Caem and the Vesperpool for an Ignis-mandated lunch stop. Prompto had convinced the chef to leave the sauce off of his fish and just give him a decent pile of lettuce, which was a perfectly reasonable solution to satisfy both Prompto’s weight gain anxiety and his craving for salads. However, there were other anxieties to be faced:

“We might get into close-quarters combat if we have to go into a cave or mine,” Ignis remarked coolly, rubbing his chin. “If it comes to that, Noctis, you and I will have to take point, and Prompto, I will have to ask you to stand back.”

Prompto bit his lip and poked at his salad. “I dunno if I can do that. I’m here to help, why am I even coming along if you’re just gonna have me not do anything?”

“No, we need you at the back, watching our backs.” Noctis was firm. “Anything coming up behind us, you gotta give us the heads up.”

“Unfortunately, this will be more dangerous with just the three of us.” Ignis sighed, but his hand slid onto Prompto’s thigh under the table. “We’ll all have to be on our guard.”

With a hearty meal on their stomachs, they set off to the Vesperpool. “At least we won’t overheat,” Prompto remarked as they rode up into the depths of the woods, still fanning himself a little bit as they left the sunny plains of Cleigne. Ignis hummed with consideration from the shotgun seat, as Noctis eased on the brakes as the car glided into the shade.

“Yeah, but who knows what we’re gonna find in here?” Noctis drummed the wheel, but neither Ignis nor Prompto responded. Prompto could sense tension building as they reached the end of the road and parked, finding themselves in the remnants of an Empire outpost. There were still half-empty crates of materials and broken crates on the ground, but Prompto noticed cracked pillars and bits of old stone walls.

“Solheim ruins,” Ignis mused. “Some of these structures look positively ancient.”

“I’m not sure how being ancient is positive,” Noct muttered as he threw the car into park, and Prompto chuckled a little as he got up.

“Museums can be kinda cool!”

Ignis hummed, rubbing his chin as he looked down the footpath. “Living legends can be much more dangerous.” He turned back to Prompto and rested his hands on his shoulders. “Darling, I implore you. Neither of us will begrudge you wanting to turn back for safety. The moment you feel uncomfortable, please only say so.”

Prompto put his hands over Ignis’ and squeezed his fingers. “I’m not gonna turn back. I’m with you guys the whole way.”

“Nonetheless, the option is there.” Ignis planted a kiss on Prompto’s brow, Noctis made a disgusted noise, and the three of them turned to creep their way down the footpath towards the ruins.

“We're up north of that waterfall, right?” Noctis scrunched his face as they walked. “I hope it’s not as cold as that cave was.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Prompto groaned. “Maybe I ought’a get a real coat with sleeves if we’re gonna keep going cold places.”

“I could warm up to the idea,” Ignis murmured dryly, smiling to himself, then continued to look around. “It really is as if they just turned the key and left the gate open for us.”

Prompto couldn’t help but wonder just who had done that, but his mind could only come up with one answer - _Izunia_. _Ardyn Izunia_. 

“Ah, here you are! Gentlemen, what a pleasant surprise!” 

Sure enough, there he was, popping up like he’d been folded into the page they’d just turned, arms wide as if waiting to embrace them. Prompto stopped cold and grabbed Ignis’ hand. “I’m uncomfortable,” he whispered. 

“As am I,” Ignis assured him, but they released hands to approach him. “Chancellor, I see you didn’t wholly keep your word about meeting us over the sea.”

“This is true, but it appears not all of ‘ _us_ ’ are here.” Ardyn smirked a bit, eyebrows bouncing, and Noct strangled an angry noise at the taunt. Ardyn went on, pretending he hadn’t heard, “What’s more, I couldn’t quite keep my word about removing the army. I’ve got a few old friends here, but don’t you fret. I’ll put in a good word!” He motioned for them to follow, pivoting on his heel. The three of them traded quick looks, but came to silent agreement - they needed to go that way anyway, and for whatever reason, Ardyn was inclined to help them go in that direction. 

The ruins of Steyliff Grove were massive and stunning to behold. Prompto wished he felt safe enough to take his camera out and document every inch of weathered marble. However, with Ardyn still talking at them, and a few Imperial soldiers malingering on the grass, Prompto didn’t feel safe to do anything more than keep following the others towards the door, and towards…

“These are the new recruits here for _special training_?” The dragoon from Vaullerey stood with her hands on her hips, looking at them like she’d just scraped them off the bottom of her boot. “Nice cover, ‘runaway prince.’”

“Thanks!” Prompto said unprompted, and Noctis groaned under his breath. The dragoon merely snorted.

“At ease, ‘recruits.’ I’m not turning you in.” She pulled her helmet off and shook the ringlets of her platinum hair out. “Commodore Aranea Highwind.”

“A pleasure, to be certain.” Ignis shifted to put himself between Aranea and Prompto, a hand extended. She took it and shook it.

“Pleasure’s mine, Four-Eyes.” 

“Look at that, fast friends already!” Ardyn popped up behind Aranea and patted her on the shoulders, but she instantly shrugged him off and sidestepped him, preemptively annoyed at his very presence. "I take it you can handle things from here, Commodore. Ah, and-" He leaned in and stage-whispered, "Do remember what we talked about."

"The blond one, yeah, got it." She brushed Ardyn off, and he chuckled as he strolled away. Prompto froze up, as Aranea set her hands on her hips and studied Prompto from toe to tip, her eyes dangerously sharp, but she directed her words to Noctis: "We got until sundown 'til this place opens up. Make your preparations before then.” 

The afternoon had gotten late while they'd been driving, the sun sinking behind the trees (weird, it seemed to be setting too early for this time of year), but a place like this likely didn't consider it night until the sky was well and truly dark. Noctis hiked down to the nearest dock, about 50 yards off, and cast out across the shimmering pool. Prompto decided to forage for mushrooms, and Ignis scribbled away at something in his notebook.

"Such lovely fungus you've uncovered," he remarked in a low, intimate voice when Prompto dropped off a small basket. He plucked one of them up and examined it. "Yes, perfect specimen; no _shroom_ for improvement!" He grinned as Prompto giggled. "I believe I've come up with a new recipe." He glanced over his shoulder to where Aranea was talking with one of the Imperial soldiers, then kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, darling."

The sun sank lower, and Ignis set up their camp stove and a few chairs to prepare dinner. Noctis was still fishing, but Prompto joined him with the last of the oranges and berries he'd found. "Need a sous chef tonight?"

"Not tonight, no. Sit yourself down and rest a bit, you'll need your strength later." Ignis planted a kiss on his forehead then gently shooed him with a little wave, smiling fondly, and Prompto happily melted into a chair, warm and soft in Ignis' affection. It felt so good that Ignis could be sweet on him in the open.

Until suddenly, it wasn't.

"Awww, isn't that cute?" Aranea strolled over to them, smirking a little. "Do you always baby the Prince's other bodyguards, or is Blondie here special to you, too?"

Ignis' mouth tightened into a thin line. Prompto retrieved his baby book and hid it in his lap, then put his nose in it as Ignis stared Aranea down. "We are friends as much as coworkers, Commodore. Will you and the other gentlemen be joining us for dinner?"

"You offerin', Four-Eyes?" Aranea raised an eyebrow. "What's on the menu?"

"Peppery Daggerquill Rice with extra peppers and sauteed mushrooms."

Noctis groaned as he approached. "Extra veg? Seriously?"

"Vegetables are good for growing, active young bodies," Ignis retorted, rote yet appropriately cryptic, and didn't look back up at Aranea or Prompto. "You and the two gentlemen with you are welcome to our hospitality, as we have been graced with yours."

"Huh." Aranea meandered back over to her men without directly answering, and Noctis shot Ignis a fiery look.

"I'll let the veggies slide-"

"- probably directly onto my plate-" Prompto chuckled.

"But you're feeding the Imperials?" Noctis crossed his arms, and Ignis sighed.

"We're allies, however temporarily. Besides, Madam Commodore seems to have no real love for the Empire, outside of personal gain." His mouth tightened again. "At the very least her actions on their behalf aren't genuine."

"Whatever." Noctis sighed and slumped into the chair next to Prompto, and spoke softly. "Checking the book again?"

"Mhm. Been wondering about something." He flipped back a few pages. "The book, and the doctor said I might be able to feel the baby moving, but that was weeks ago now."

"Oh." Noctis frowned. "Huh. Maybe it's because you move around so much, you don't feel them moving?"

"Maybe." Now that Prompto was thinking about it, he was worried. "I guess I was trying to find the range of when the baby might move. No luck yet."

"Try not to worry about it."

"Dude." Prompto snapped the book shut and groaned. "I'm trying to think about this so I don't have to worry about the big spooky ruins. How much stuff should I _not_ worry about?"

"Let me and Iggy do the worrying. C'mon, we got time for a mission in King's Knight." Noct took out his phone, and Prompto reluctantly dismissed the book to the Armiger and followed suit.

Dinner was quiet. Aranea and her two soldiers, Biggs and Wedge, were grateful (each in their own way) for the meal, and Prompto especially so. However, nerves still twisted in him, and he managed to only get half of his plate down before he started to feel sick looking at it. He took his plate aside and summoned a storage container from the Armiger to put it away. Noctis noticed and rushed over to him to pinch his arm.

"You said you'd eat at dinner."

"I did eat!" Prompto hissed back. "Just, I can't eat all of it."

"You need the calories!"

"I'll have it as a snack later!" Prompto sighed, as Ignis approached to interrupt:

"Noctis, give him space. He's listening to his body, that's the best thing for him." Ignis shot Prompto a concerned look as he pulled Noctis back. "Promise me you will finish your dinner later."

"Promise." Prompto sighed. "You want me to do the dishes?"

"If it won't strain you." Ignis brushed a kiss against his cheek, and Prompto kissed him back, then passed by Noctis to get the wash basin and the pans. 

He heard Noctis start up a tiff with Ignis about "making Prompto work," and tried to ignore it. Back in the field, Prompto was starting to feel the strain of the situation, and the worst they'd faced so far were a couple of voretooths. He just kept finding himself worried about something else, worried about what came next, worried about what was right in front of him…

"So, that's it?" Aranea had come to stand over him, and knelt to put her empty plate in the basin then said softly, "You're the weak link."

Prompto blanched, as Aranea studied him, eyes narrowed. "What?"

"The Chancellor has some vested interest in your Prince and his whole little ragtag group making it to Altissia." Aranea twirled a finger to indicate Noctis, Ignis, and the empty space where Gladio would be. "All of you. And seeing the way those two are falling all over each other to play nursemaid to you? You'll get them killed." Prompto blanched. 

"Hey, I can hold my own."

"In any other situation? Maybe." Aranea sniffed. "Average soldier, basic training, and a crack shot with a gun? Maybe a weak constitution wouldn't be a death knell. But the Chancellor and Emperor seem to be fascinated with some Cosmogony, Gods and Daemons shit, and you're about to be in way over your head." She shook her head. "Hell, I might be in over _my_ head from the way the Chancellor babbles. I don't even think they know what they're messing with, sometimes." She thumbed her chest. "I'm a soldier. I've been fighting for my own life for years. I can handle myself, because nobody's gonna keep me alive but me." Then, she put her index finger to his chest. "You? You're daemon food, but the Chancellor wants you alive." She scoffed with annoyance. "So now I gotta keep you alive. I'm not getting paid enough for this."

Prompto suddenly learned the definition of mood swing. He pasted on a big bright smile to keep a scream from roaring out. "Wow, sorry I'm such an inconvenience!" Noctis and Ignis both whipped around. "Tell ya what, don't put yourself out on my account! I can take care of myself just fine." He put the last of the dishes into the Armiger and stood up so fast his head spun. "I'm fine. I've fought daemons and Gods before and I've been _fine_. Just let me keep my gun in my hands and I'll be fine." He turned, tossed the wash water down into the brush and splashed half of it on his shoes, then stormed off to wait by the entrance to the spooky ruins by himself. 

Then, he let himself start crying. 

Ignis joined him after a moment. He didn't say anything immediately but sat at his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Prompto turned and sank against his chest and let Ignis pet his hair. Ignis kissed the crown of his head. "Would you like to repeat what she told you?" His tone was carefully neutral, which led Prompto to believe that if he repeated what he was told, Aranea would be made to regret even thinking it. As much as he would have liked to see Ignis give her the business, he knew they needed her tonight. He shook his head.

"Thing is," he mumbled. "I dunno if she's wrong. I just don't like it." He turned and buried his face against Ignis' chest, and Ignis hushed him. 

"If you won't tell me what was said, I can't correct it, but I won't push. Just know I believe in you, and you can do the same."

Prompto weakly chuckled through his tears. "Believe in me who believes in you, huh? Don't meme on me right now, I don't feel like laughing."

"It sounds silly, but it's true. Our baby believes in you, after all. Why do you think they're so content to sleep the days away inside of you? They must feel safe."

Prompto blushed. "Did Noct-?"

"I heard you." Ignis kissed his brow. "Fret not. When we return to Lestallum, we can-"

The last of the light disappeared under the horizon. The doors behind them rumbled ominously, then slid open to reveal a gaping maw into darkness. Ignis and Prompto stood and gazed into the dark doorway, until Noctis jogged up to them.

"Door's open?"

"Looks that way." Prompto motioned to the door, then wiped away the last of his tears. "Let's head in." Noctis was opening his mouth to ask Prompto something (likely about what Aranea had said), just as Aranea joined them.

"Let's get this show on the road, boys. I don't want to be in there at sunrise." She turned to her cohorts. "Biggs. Wedge. Stay here, keep watch. You three, keep your wits about you and let's go."

Ignis took and squeezed Prompto's hand once, before releasing it and stepping forward to fall in behind Noctis. Prompto sucked his emotions back, stomach still twisting, and followed the others down into the ruins.

* * *

Prompto could officially add "ancient ruins" to the list of places he didn't like, right up there with empty mines, chilly caves, and caravans occupied by creepy chancellors. Steyliff Grove, according to the little bit of literature Ignis recalled about the place once given the name, had been a place of worship during the days of Solheim, a place for honoring the dead. Given that Ifrit's fire symbolized life to them, water symbolized death, and when Prompto looked up towards the ceiling to see the water's surface glimmering with moonlight, swimming with fish and rippling faintly, something clicked.

It was more beautiful than Prompto could describe. It was beyond understanding. That was the terrifying part: not understanding, knowing he couldn't understand, and being keenly aware of those facts.

"It feels like it's harder to breathe all of a sudden." Prompto sucked in air hard, as if to prove to himself he still could. He put his palm against the base of his ribs, where his armor squeezed his lungs and belly, as if to reassure someone else they could still breathe easy.

In spite of his fears and in the spirit of proving Aranea wrong, he marched alongside the others stalwart and stoic, as they carved their way through daemons.

Or, he tried to stay stoic. He just couldn't help but banter to encourage Noctis, to pretend to be a little scared a bridge wouldn't hold his weight, and to complain when daemons popped up out of nowhere. Aranea rolled her eyes at him most of the time, but he made sure to make it count when he had to be serious. He didn't hesitate to bust out the big guns, firing from behind the others, and pitching Starshells high whenever the shadows got too thick with miasma.

Feeling useful made him feel a little better about complaining.

"Stairs they go on," he hummed to himself as he jogged up a long flight, feeling himself run short on breath again, but continuing to hum, "Forever they go on, on and on and on…"

"He's gone," Noctis chuckled a little, but Prompto ran short on breath at the top of the stairs and doubled over to catch his breath. "You okay?"

Aranea scoffed, and Prompto winced and sucked in another breath. "Fine. Fine. Armor's crushing my lungs a little, but who's not a little out of breath after fighting an Iron Giant?"

Aranea smirked. "This girl." She turned on her heel, skirt swishing easily as she traveled down the hallway before them. "Think I'd make a pretty fine daemon hunter if I did leave the Army." 

"So you're actually serious about leaving?" Prompto frowned as he thought back on what Aranea had said. Aranea had mentioned something like that on their way down: the Empire capturing the daemons down here for specimens. 

Specimens for weapons research. The thought made Prompto shudder.

"Told ya, kid: the Emperor and the Chancellor are all up their own asses with some Gods and Daemons shit, and while I might be able to handle it, I don't like it. Back when I was a kid, they told us the war was because Lucis hogged resources and lorded themselves over everyone else with that Crystal, a war to make the world fair, but all of a sudden the Emperor has the Crystal and Lucis is under their thumb but he's still hungry for more. I'm not so sure it's worth what they're paying me."

"Huh." Noctis sounded mildly interested. "Well, let us know when you figure it out, so we know whether or not to attack on sight next time we see you." 

"After all," Ignis added dryly, "we know more precisely what you can do now."

"Just try me, boys. I know what each of us is capable of." She stopped at a crossroads, then shook her head. "Let's split up to check these paths out. Four-Eyes, Prince, you go left, hail if it leads through. Me and Blondie are going right."

Ignis started to protest, but Noctis grabbed his shoulder. Prompto caught Ignis' eye and nodded. He could handle anything she threw at him. 

They'd only walked fifty yards down the hall when Aranea reached back and pinched his side. He helped, as she bemusedly looked him over. "You are wearing armor."

"Yes!" He squawked back. "Of course I am! I'm squishy under my clothes!" She snorted, and he groaned and tugged his shirt collar. "I'm all lungs and hearts and intestines under here, and I like being alive!"

"Yeah, fine." She strolled on. "And it's tight because?"

Prompto didn't know how to answer that. He pursed his lips for a moment, then muttered, "Isn't it supposed to be?"

"Close to the skin, sure, but not tight." 

"Well." Prompto flushed, uncomfortable as she pointed out the holes in his not-quite-lies, and looked away. "So maybe I put it on too tight."

"Or Four-Eyes is feeding you too much." Prompto's ears burned at the accusation, but Aranea, either ignorant or indifferent to his emotions, blazed on: "You want me to adjust your armor?"

"I'm fine." He made to walk ahead of her, but she hooked him by his jacket collar and yanked him back. 

"If you're running out of breath after just a few steps-"

"A few dozen!" Prompto moaned in protest, but Aranea clicked her tongue.

"You're not in fighting shape!"

Just then, an Imp popped up in front of them, screeching. Prompto pushed past Aranea and summoned the circle saw, beheading the Imp in a single slice. As it dissolved into smoke and ichor on the ground, Prompto turned back to Aranea, smiling mirthlessly. "Good thing I'm still fighting, anyway. Where would you be without me?"

A few more daemons began to bubble up from the ground before Aranea could snark back. Instead, she drew up her spear with a war cry, and Prompto flew into action with his saw in one hand and his pistol in the other.

He waltzed around Aranea, each moving past the other and striking at the Imps and Flans lunging and swiping at them, Prompto shooting the ones Aranea knocked back with her spear and slicing at the ones that got close to him with his saw. It was over in minutes, Prompto dizzy from moving around Aranea in the tight space and out of breath from the intense effort. He stumbled a step back as he tried to catch his breath again, huffing furiously as he tried and failed to fill his lungs with air. Aranea was saying _something_ , Six knew what, probably something nasty, but all Prompto could hear was his own rushing pulse. He tried to straighten up, but his head was too light on his shoulders and he was sure he would collapse. He managed a few shaky words:

"Need ten seconds." He summoned a bottle of water from the Armiger and drank, then a granola bar (he needed to eat, he wished he had time for the rest of his dinner, but Aranea was leering and still intermittently throwing barbs at him with a sneer on her lips even though he was too dizzy to make out what she was saying). However, the lightheadedness got worse when he chewed and swallowed. He groaned miserably. "'Nother ten seconds, sorry."

"What the hell, kid?!" 

Prompto ignored her as he dropped to sit against the wall, then summoned the baby book and flipped to the index, scanning the page for "lightheadedness," until Aranea snatched the book from his hands.

"Quit playing dumb, you can hear me!" She shook the book. "What the hell are you doing?!" She looked at the book, and Prompto saw the exact second she comprehended the title when her eyes went wide. She lifted her helmet and stared down at him dead-on for a long, painfully awkward thirty seconds, and he tried to pull his knees in close (and failed). Finally, she spoke: "Shit. Well, if this doesn't explain a lot. I still have two questions."

"I make no promises to answer 'em," Prompto mumbled into his knees.

"It's for your own good." She shook the book. "What trimester?"

"Second." She already knew enough, that detail probably wouldn't make whatever insult he had coming worse.

"Good grief, kid." Aranea shook her head hard. "Question two: am I technically in the presence of the next heir to Insomnia?"

"What?!" Prompto whipped his head up and gawked at her, his jaw hung loose.

"Tell me that's not the next Prince or Princess of Lucis hiding under your armor." Aranea dropped the book back in his lap. Prompto grimaced, almost sick at the thought.

"It's not."

"Could've fooled me!" She set her hands on her hips. "The way he fawns on you and dotes on you-"

"We're best friends. That's it. Me and Noct aren't like that at all, we're more like brothers." Prompto hung his head. "They're Iggy's kid. He's the only person I've ever been with."

"Oh. You mean Four-Eyes?" Aranea actually sounded a little disappointed. "Well, damn. If you were Lucis' contingency plan, guarded by the Prince personally, this would've made a lot more sense."

"I'm still Crownsguard. It was an accident, but my duty is to protect Noctis, except at this point we're all protecting each other, for the most part." He thought about Gladio, alone in the world, and grimaced. "I'm not abandoning Noct. Like I said, he’s my brother. I wouldn't want him to leave me behind. Even thinking about it makes me sick." He rubbed his face in his hands. "And now you know my secret."

"Yup." She tossed her hair and glared down at him again. "And I know two things: one, you shouldn't be here, and two, that armor is way too tight."

He groaned. "I know! I… ugh." He put his head between his knees. "Okay. Get it over with."

"What are you on about?" Aranea set her hands on her hips, staring down her nose. He flapped his hand.

"Same as everyone else. Chew me out. Ask me how the hell this happened, why was I so irresponsible, just like…"

"For goodness' sake." Aranea snorted. "Listen, kid, I get it. Shit happens, people get dumb in love and war, and besides, I've seen way weirder things out there than a boy having a baby. I've come to accept that most of the time when it comes to weird shit, I'm not gonna get an explanation. I stick to worrying about the parts of a problem I can change or fix. So, take your jacket off and I'll see if we can loosen your armor, and maybe you'll be able to breathe a little easier when you're not pushing your baby belly up into your diaphragm." 

Prompto grimaced. "I don't like undressi-"

"You can't possibly have anything under there I haven't seen. Seriously, I've seen some of the weird apparatus that Besithia doctor guy hooks up to folks, it's not pretty." She shook her head. "I'm all business here. I'll respect your decency as best I can, but you can't fight like this. Now take the jacket off."

Prompto couldn't brook any more argument, and timidly slid his jacket down his arms, then lifted his tank.

A few minutes later, Ignis and Noctis called down the hall, right as Aranea finished her patch job on the clasps of the armor. "Madam Commodore! Prompto!"

"Hey, Prompto, tell the dragoon lady to wait up, that way was a dead end!" Prompto saw Noctis skidding to a halt as he sat up, feeling a little relief from the straps Aranea had added to give his armor a little more breathing room.

"Watch your sides," she told him as she gave him his shirt back and he pulled it on so Noctis wouldn't see anything. "See what you can do about sizing up or making this vest bigger, but you're not getting full coverage in this armor without crushing someone." Ignis arrived in time to see Prompto putting his jacket back on. He went white for a second, and Aranea smirked at him. "What, you mad I got your little boyfriend topless?"

"I beg your pardon, mad-"

"She was helping fix my armor, Iggy!" Prompto lifted the bottom of his shirt. "I can breathe a little better now."

The fury drained from Ignis' face, and he controlled his voice to an even neutral. "I see. Well, as long as Commodore Highwind was respectful-"

"It’s Aranea, and c'mon, Four-eyes, do I look like the kind of woman who's ever been respectful?" Aranea grinned mischievously at Ignis, who flatly ignored the bait.

"Let's continue onwards." He held his hands out for Prompto, and Prompto took them so he could help him to his feet. "We must be near our goal." 

There were a few more hordes of daemons between the four of them and a stairwell, but this time when Prompto jogged up the stairs, he didn't feel tightness in his lungs. Ignis was obviously still wary, yet pleased, and spoke quietly to him as they reached the top: “Cid mentioned he was willing to alter and upgrade some of our weapons. Perhaps once he’s finished the boat, he can modify your armor so that the gaps left by Commodore Highwind’s augmentation are covered.”

Prompto hummed low and spoke lower. “I’d have to tell Cid about Junior.”

“And if he reacts poorly, he answers to Noctis and myself.” Ignis rubbed his hand down Prompto's back. "I take it the Commodore was accepting, all things considered."

"Pretty sure she thinks I'm dumb and the situation is weird, but she's basically okay with me existing." Prompto noticed Aranea stop abruptly ahead of them, but she seemed to be looking past a portal ahead of her with Noctis at her side. The door opened into a big room with a high ceiling; it had to be the main sanctuary. Prompto had played enough video games to know where this was going:

"Ooh, spacious!" He whistled as he looked around. "Watch, we're gonna walk in ten steps and _bam,_ big nasty's gonna drop out of the ceiling."

As if to answer him, a massive shadow moved off of a beam above, and a massive beast swooped down from aloft on enormous, shimmering wings of turquoise feathers and gleaming film. Prompto gaped for a second, then shook his head. "I hate being right."

"It happens to everyone." Aranea got her spear in hand. "Come on, boys, the bigger they are, the harder they fall!" 

All three of them drew, right as the Quetzacoatl swooped again. Prompto tucked and rolled out of the way, then pulled his gun as Noctis and Aranea each launched themselves at it, Aranea using her spear to boost her jump and Noct throwing his polearm and warping right after it. Ignis braced himself on the ground, as Prompto got out the big guns and took aim.

“He’s a little out of our reach, huh? Let’s bring the party to us!” He took aim at the creature’s wings and fired with everything he had. He struck true, and the Quetzacoatl shrieked and came plummeting to the ground. Aranea jumped down after it, striking it in the head and neck, as Noct warped right into its side and Ignis ran in to join the fray. After a few precious seconds, it shook them off and galloped towards Prompto. Prompto ducked behind some of the rubble and took cover as the Quetzacoatl took to the air again. 

“Hey, Blondie! Good instincts!” Aranea waved just as Noctis warped off again, striking out for a vantage point. “Now do it again!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Prompto braced himself against the rubble, keeping himself tucked in the corner and taking aim again. Noct got the same idea, and Prompto saw him trying to strike at its wings when he was reloading. 

It was a rough fight. Noctis and Ignis dodged swiping claws and roaring charges, not to mention swoops and shrieking that made Prompto clamp his hands over his ringing ears. Despite the beast fighting as hard as it could, Noctis and Aranea were merciless and Prompto and Ignis jumped in whenever they could. It was their fight to lose. When the Quetzacoatl crashed down for the last time and Noctis managed to drive his polearm down through its skull, they were all panting, bruised and sweating, but they could look to one another as its body stilled, before it wheezed one last breath and died. Prompto crept out of his cover, then approached Noctis, hand extended.

“High-five for beating the boss fight on the first try?”

Noctis slapped his hand, chuckling, as Ignis joined them. “Excellent work gentlemen, Madam Commodore.”

“It’s Aranea. Just say ‘nice job, guys,’” Aranea snickered as she dusted off her skirt. “And yeah. Good job, boys. This’ll conclude your ‘special training.’” She thumbed over her shoulder at a hunk of silvery, liquid-looking metal. “‘Cause the stuff you came for? That looks like it.”

Noctis and Ignis began to carve a chunk of the mythril off, chiseling it out of the deposit with their hardest metal weapons, and Aranea returned her attention to Prompto, coming in close. “So, you think I’m ‘okay with you existing.’” Prompto winced, as she crossed her arms. “Kiddo, who hurt you?”

Prompto hung his head and put a hand over his middle. “It’s… it’s a long story. Let’s just say Gladio - the big guy - got all bent out of shape when he found out about this.”

“Huh. Would that be why he’s not here?” She raised an eyebrow, then shook her head. Prompto realized she’d jumped to a conclusion:

“Oh, um, no, he just, he said he had something to do on his own.”

“Sure.” Aranea sighed, then put her hands on her hips. “I did a little more thinking. I figured out the real reason why the Chancellor wants you alive.” She tapped his chest with her index finger. “You’re the heart.”

Prompto cocked his head “The… heart?”

“The Prince there is the head.” She indicated her own head. “Not that he’s particularly bright, but it’s his goals and ideas you’re all following. Four-Eyes is the hands. He does things, he takes action. He pushes forward. You’re the heart. You’re the emotions. You run on your emotions, and it helps guide their feelings, too.” She smiled softly and gestured. “You said it yourself, you’re here because you care about the Prince. Anyone who cared less would have bolted when he stopped being able to pay you. So, that’s your place with them.” She wagged a thumb at Noctis and Ignis. “When you act or speak, you hold a lot of weight with them, because of how strongly they feel about you.” Prompto furrowed his brow, thinking.

“So, because they care about me-”

“You hold a lot of weight with them. Not just your words or actions, either. Ardyn wants you alive because he wants you available to use later.” She leaned in and whispered, “If he wants the Prince there to do something, he’ll put a knife to your throat and say, ‘or else.’”

Prompto’s own heart sank. “Oh.”

“But you’re not the weak link, kiddo. Not even close. I’m not sure you guys have a weak link.” She turned back towards the others, frowning. “Just makes me wonder why the shield on your back wandered off on you.”

Head, heart, hands, and back. Someone to cover them, a broad protective force. Prompto sighed. “I think he felt like he wasn’t doing a good job of it.” 

“Well, if that’s so, good.” She slapped Prompto on the back. “When he comes back, he’ll be stronger once he realizes what it’s like to fight like you do without you all behind him, and you’ll have him back. Makes me wish I could just watch you go.”

Prompto smiled wearily. “I’ll take it as a compliment.” Ignis and Noctis finally worked a massive chunk of the raw ore loose, and Noctis sent it to the Armiger’s storage. 

“We’re good!” Noctis dusted his hands. “Let’s get out of here before the sun comes up.”

The four of them jogged back down the stairs unimpeded, and one more thing came to Prompto’s mind as they retraced their steps: “So, Commodore?”

“Aranea.”

“Sorry. Uh, you said the Empire was using the daemons here to make weapons?” He nodded to the spear on her back. “Like your spear, there?”

“It’s a little of that.” Aranea’s mouth worked. “But… well. You’ve seen magitek troopers, right?”

“More than we’d like to say,” Ignis murmured, already on edge and listening keenly. 

“We’ve lost count of how many times MTs have come down on us,” Noct added.

“And not just because we ran out of fingers and toes,” Prompto joked, wiggling his fingers.

“Yeah?” Aranea sounded unimpressed nonetheless. “Then you’ve gotten an up-close and personal view. Those things are born from daemons, in Besithia’s lab.”

"Born from daemons," Prompto repeated, his hand coming to cover his tiny bump, and his whole body shivered in recoil. What could possibly come out of manipulating daemons into human shapes? How? 

Noctis nudged his arm, eyebrows knit. He'd noticed Prompto worrying. "Prompto?"

"Sorry." Prompto gave a half-hearted smile, but didn’t offer an explanation. “I’m okay.”

"Worried? You should be." Aranea sauntered a few steps ahead of them. "Darkness is coming, and if I were you, I'd watch my princely ass, or rather, _kingly_ ass, and the backside of everyone I care about."

Noctis took Prompto's hand, as Ignis took the other. "I will," Noctis said. "As demonstrated, we got this."

Aranea offered them a ride out once they got topside, and Ignis had a message from Cindy: "We're to hasten to Lestallum once we acquire the ore. Her friend, Holly, at the EXINERIS plant, has offered to smelt it for us."

"Cool. And that'll take care of our transportation issue?" Prompto grinned, and Ignis nodded.

"After a fashion, certainly.” Ignis tucked his phone in his pocket and got the keys out. “Aranea, may we load our car into your transport?”

“Well, it wouldn’t do you much good to leave it here. Go get it, I’ll get Biggs to bring the ship down.” Aranea waved him off, and he set about loading up the car into her waiting airship.

Soon enough, they were taking off, and Prompto felt much better about his second airship ride than his first. Aranea’s guys took the helm, Noctis took a nap sprawled in the back seat of the car where it sat in the hold, and Ignis sat on the hold floor with Prompto’s head laid in his lap, rubbing his scalp. Once they were aloft, however, Aranea joined them and sat down near Ignis and Prompto.

“Four-Eyes, I’m stealin’ your boy.” She tapped Prompto’s arm and motioned. “C’mere.”

Prompto grimaced as he got up, and Aranea took him to sit in the opposite corner and grabbed a small bag from a pile of duffel bags in the corner, then took out a small bottle. “So, uh, your guy there treating you nice while you’re having his kid?”

“As previously stated, we’re doing the best we can with the resources at our disposal,” Ignis replied tersely, observing the two of them from where he sat. “What are you implying?”

“That someone ought’a treat him well. Seriously, he’s having your kid, you ought’a be treating him like a goddess, or god, whatever.” Aranea showed Prompto a bottle - purple nail polish. “So, uh, this sorta thing? I heard someone tell a lady having a baby that just ‘cause she couldn’t see her feet didn’t mean they couldn’t be pretty.” Her eyelashes fluttered a little, expression flashing to sorrow for a brief second, but she shook the bottle. “You want me to paint your toenails?”

Prompto frowned, but as he mulled the idea over in his head, the answer came out fast: “Yeah, I totally do.” He began unlacing his boots, and Aranea chuckled.

“That’s the spirit.”

Prompto had just gotten one boot off when Ignis crossed over to join them. “Perhaps I may join in?” He sat crosslegged beside Prompto. “May I continue rubbing your scalp, or perhaps massage your ankles?”

Prompto gawked up. “Whoa, I’m gonna get both of you to work me over? That’s awesome! What did I do to deserve this?”

“I wasn’t exactly nice to you earlier,” Aranea remarked as she shook the bottle and opened it. “And it’s not exactly cool to be nasty to someone who’s already living for two people.”

“I merely love you. After all, you are my heart.” Ignis smiled and brought one of Prompto’s feet onto his lap, as Aranea set about painting Prompto’s toenails on the other. 

It couldn’t be like the days he’d had to relax, but after a night under pressure, having some release from the stress was as nice as Prompto could imagine. Their support was a bolster, and that even a stranger like Aranea could put him at ease was another reassurance.

He felt a little stronger.

Prompto still had worries nagging at him, both within and without, but he lived up this moment for as long as he could where he didn't have to.


	15. All Together Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys return to Lestallum and have some serious conversations about what comes next for all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up short because it's a connecting chapter. Besides, just like me when playing through the less linear chapters, we don't want to get to Altissia too fast, right?
> 
> Enjoy!

**15\. All Together Now**

Prompto spent the trip to the outskirts of Lestallum admiring his freshly painted toenails and flipping vacantly through the baby book. However, the thoughts of the things he couldn't know nagged at him, until he realized he could call to schedule an appointment with the OB-GYN clinic. Dr. Naline was available, and Prompto got the first appointment in the morning. He tried to wrap his mind around those thoughts, or to let then bolster him - he'd see a doctor in the morning. He would get to rest. Lestallum could be his respite for just a little while.

Prompto had hoped they’d get to Lestallum, check into the Leville quietly, and then he’d sprawl comfortably in a real bed while Noctis and Ignis took the ore up to the power plant to be processed. 

That was not to be.

Instead, Aranea deposited them just outside of the city, and they drove into the calamity of fire alarms and sirens. The chaos erupted around them the moment they drove into the city limits and the air was filled with screams, as people fled in an uproar. Night was already falling - had they been in the airship that long?! - but the sky was lit red in the distance.

“Is that a fire?” Noctis’ eyes went wide. “Hey, isn’t that the power plant?!”

Noctis bolted off towards havoc, and Prompto turned back towards Ignis. “Iggy-”

“Let’s fall in, we have to help!” Ignis ran after Noctis and Prompto was hardly a step behind. 

“Yeah!” He might have wanted a night to relax, but he knew his job had to come first when the need was this urgent.

The EXINERIS plant was in flames, and Holly was already talking to Noctis at the gate: “Daemons. They started popping up near the converters. We’ve sent another hunter on ahead, but we need more help.” Noctis was stepping back from her, working his way into a rubber suit. He looked over his shoulder to Ignis. 

“I’m going in there.”

Ignis and Prompto worked Noctis the rest of the way into the suit, and Prompto couldn’t help but chuckle: “It looks good on you, dude.”

“Classy,” Ignis contributed as he zipped up the back of the suit. Noctis scoffed.

“Since apparently only women can go in there unprotected, this is what it’s gonna be. You two make sure no daemons make it out of the plant, I’ll handle this!” Noctis summoned his blade, gripping it through the glove, and ran ahead without looking back.

The words buzzed in Prompto’s head for a moment, as the fire continued to crackle in his ears. He tugged Ignis’ sleeve. “Hey, Iggy?”

“No,” Ignis answered before Prompto could begin to ask. “No, you should not go in there in his stead. For one, you are no more woman than either of us, and for two, you’re…”

“Yeah, I know.” Prompto hung his head. “I feel useless out here. Just, if it is less risky for-”

“It certainly is not! Are you mad?” Ignis bent over to look into Prompto’s eyes, and spoke a little softer to keep Holly from overhearing. “This is unlike you." Prompto bit his lip, and Ignis carded his fingers through his hair, whispering, "Darling? Talk to me.”

Prompto shivered and leaned back against the railing. “Sorry... I… I’ve been having trouble lately. Worrying. I think it’s making me moodier, and less focused. I've been trying to think about other stuff, but it keeps coming back into my head and messing me up.” He cringed and rubbed his belly, keenly feeling at the firm bump, hard and unforgiving under his palm. “Like, the way I snapped at Aranea?”

Ignis frowned and tousled Prompto’s hair. “In fairness to you, she treated you less than courteously at first. Either way, it could just be pregnancy hormones, but darling, why didn’t you speak up earlier?”

“I thought it was normal too, but something feels wrong.” Prompto slumped a little into Ignis’ touch. The fire off the power plant crackled especially loudly, noisily, and both men jumped, before Prompto grimaced and slouched a little lower. “I feel wrong.”

“Oh, dearest.” Ignis wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Whatever is it?"

"Can't put my finger on it." He fidgeted, fingers tracing little circles near the bottom of his belly. "I don't even know where to start, to be honest." He looked up at Ignis from under his bangs. "I made an appointment with the OBGYN."

"Clever thing." The compliment wasn't colored with the usual warmth, but instead with worry, with Ignis' brow worked up with worry. "I'll go with you, if you'd like."

"I really would." Prompto leaned on Ignis' chest, and Ignis patted his back.

"Look sharp for now, my love. I'm with you."

Prompto hunched up against Ignis as they waited, Prompto with his gun at the ready. Ignis ran his hand down his back a few times, but Prompto could tell he was watching the fire and listening to Holly as she stood at the gates, talking to Noctis as he made his way through. He kept listening, finger on the trigger, until the alarm sirens stopped and the fire suppression system came on, sending a burst of steam up from the control building. 

Then, Noctis was heard on the comm: _“We’re done. We’re on our way out now.”_

Prompto and Ignis straightened up and separated by a step, ready to help Noctis, and Holly seemed to notice, chuckling dryly. “You boys a little shy about what you got?”

“More unused to being affectionate around strangers,” Ignis explained, and Holly laughed and tossed her hair back.

“Didn’t seem to mind much when it was just me!”

“We make friends fast, since we seem to make enemies even faster,” Prompto replied with a shrug, then saw movement past her. His hand went to his gun on instinct, but he made out the shape of Noctis in the exosuit coming out of the plant, with the fire dying behind him. 

Right behind him was the other hunter, a hulking, huge man, and Prompto grasped at Ignis’ hand.

“Hey - Iggy - you think?”

"I can't say, but..." Ignis trailed off, then shook his head. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

Seeing that massive hunter walk out of the power plant a few steps behind Noct put Prompto’s heart in his throat. It couldn’t be, _it couldn’t be_ , but who else could it be?!

Noct yanked the helmet off as he reached them and mopped the sweat out of his hair, groaning. “That was rough.”

Prompto chuckled nervously as Noct shook himself out like a dog. “I know that feel.”

“Not a fan of tight squeezes, are we?” Ignis still sounded amused and fond. “Do you need a hand getting out of the suit?”

“I got it, gimme a second.” Noctis tugged ineffectually at the sleeves for another few seconds, before turning to fruitlessly reach for the zipper, to no avail. Finally, Prompto helped yank the zipper down and Ignis worked Noctis’ arms loose of the rubber suit and gloves. He heaved a sigh of relief when Ignis finally peeled the exosuit away. “Finally.”

“I think it _suited_ you,” Ignis teased, but another rolling laugh joined Prompto’s giggle. 

Prompto heard Gladio like a bolt out of the blue: “I was just waiting to hear one of those dumb puns again.”

Prompto turned to see Gladio stepping out of his exosuit, the too-big hunter resolving back into the form of their friend, looking a little worse for the wear. Besides being sweaty from the suit and the fire, he had a new scar across his forehead and diagonally down his chest. Noctis just grinned and strode right back over to him.

“I thought it was you!”

“Likewise, your Majesty.” He and Noctis fist-bumped, then locked arms by the elbows for a second. 

“Ah, so you’re the ‘hunter who went on ahead,’” Ignis said, echoing what Holly had said and smiling wryly. 

“The one and only.” Gladio came a little closer, smiling easily, as Noctis rejoined the other two. “Good to see you again, Ignis.” Then he looked to Prompto, and though he was still smiling, his brow furrowed. “Hey, how ya been?”

“We’ve been managing,” Prompto answered, instinctively edging back behind Ignis, then letting his gaze travel over Gladio’s new scars. “Looks like someone did a number on you, though!"

“You should see the other guy.” Gladio smirked, then reached for Prompto. “Still, uh, you don’t look nearly as different as I thought you would.”

Prompto flinched back, right out of his grasp. The mirth in Gladio’s eyes died instantly, his smile dropping. Ignis quickly put himself between the two. “Perhaps we can have this conversation privately later. You are back with us, aren’t you?”

“Y-yeah.” Gladio nodded, though Prompto could still feel him examining him over Ignis’ shoulder. “Back and better than ever. Promise.”

Noctis had a quick conversation with Holly, then handed the raw mythril ore over to her. They walked for the Leville together, but Prompto overheard the exchange between Gladio and Ignis:

“He may not want to hear it, but I’m not wrong. He hardly looks like he’s changed, it’s been damn near two weeks.” Prompto glanced over his shoulder to see Gladio tracing a curve in the air. “There should be… more.”

“He’s wearing armor that is rather restrictive of his form. Kindly stop scrutinizing him.” Ignis was dry and terse. Prompto flinched and turned back around, but he couldn’t help but hear the rest: “He has an appointment tomorrow. Rest assured he’s well-taken-care-of.”

“I’m not saying anyone’s done anything wrong, except maybe me and I’ve had a chance to reprioritize some stuff so I can work on that, but… Iggy. C’mon.”

“I’m very aware, as is he. Please don’t press him.” 

The tension in Prompto wound up like a particularly strong fish pulling against Noctis’ line. He centered his hopes on the next morning, praying he wouldn’t get pulled in or, worse, simply snap.

* * *

Prompto and Ignis went to their appointment as a couple to let Noctis sleep in, and Gladio stayed behind to watch over him. That just meant that both of them were awake, Noctis eating a convenience store breakfast sandwich out of a paper wrapper and Gladio with a book open, when Prompto and Ignis returned. Noctis’ face lit when he saw Prompto - “Hey, how’d it go?” - but he took in Prompto’s lost, exhausted expression, his hand laid protectively over his middle, and his cheer dropped like a leaden weight had been tied to it. “What’s wrong?”

Prompto didn’t respond. Instead, he circled to the further bed and dropped into it as Ignis shut the door and hung his jacket in the closet. As Noctis took in Ignis’ similar taut, distressed expression, Gladio snapped his book shut. Prompto sensed the tension again, and whimpered out, “Iggy… please...”

Ignis stood still for a moment, not looking at Prompto. "Would you rather I explain?" Prompto tilted his head up and down, and Ignis knit his brow up. “Are you certain you want me to-”

“Y-yeah. I… I can’t.”

Gladio and Noctis turned their attention to Ignis. Ignis grimaced, but adjusted his collar and turned towards the others, while looking past them instead of at any of them. “Doctor… Doctor Naline stated that…” Ignis bit his tongue for a moment, fishing for words. “Perhaps an explanation. There’s no one ‘normal’ for many health conditions, such as weight, or iron levels in the blood. Merely a healthy _range_. Doctor Naline reported to us previously that Prompto’s tests came back with healthy results. However, what she did not detail to us immediately was that Prompto was on the lower end of the healthy range. She had hoped to see an improvement in the month since our last visit. Unfortunately, she did not.”

Noctis stood, glancing between Prompto and Ignis. “So… the baby…”

“Alive, yes. Growing.” Ignis slipped an envelope from his inner jacket and slid a printed image out of it, showing Noctis and Gladio the fetus sitting inside of Prompto. Ignis' mouth tightened as he examined it. “However, not as much as the good doctor would like.” 

“I failed or almost failed everything,” Prompto mumbled. “Every single thing, she said I was on the low end of the ‘healthy range,’ or right on the edge of the ‘not healthy’ range. Basal height, almost too low. I haven’t gained enough weight. My blood pressure is actually almost too low - which, usually high blood pressure is the problem! - but she thinks the baby might not be getting good blood flow. She said I’m borderline anemic! Everything she looked for - I’m a failure!” Prompto’s voice broke, and he turned over and pressed his face into the pillow. Ignis strangled back a concerned noise, then crossed the room to rub his back.

“You’re not a failure, love, you’re merely… struggling.” Ignis rubbed his palm in little circles on Prompto’s back. “We can still get you and the baby healthy, and I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to help-”

“Aren’t you doing enough?” Prompto sobbed into the pillow, and Noctis jumped beds to sit beside Prompto's shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. She said you’re still healthy, right? You’re not in trouble.” Noctis rested his palm under the base of his neck. “We’ll turn this around.” He looked to Ignis. “Did she give you some things you can do to help?”

“She did.” Ignis hesitated, then spoke slowly, rubbing Prompto’s back all the while: “We mentioned that we were hunters previously, and she said Prompto needs to curtail hunting, sleep a full eight hours a night, and increase his caloric intake, especially on days we do hunt. She gave us a more complete nutrition guide, and Prompto will need to hold as closely to them as he feasibly can. We’ll also be doubling his prenatal vitamin dosage. However, her largest concern was the one ‘high’ result he did have: Prompto’s cortisone levels are high.” Ignis gave Prompto’s back a firm stroke. “This is an indicator of high stress.”

“We can do something about that.” Gladio had been listening intently, book closed in his lap. “We’ve cleared out the active Niff bases. We’re waiting on Cid to finish the boat, right? And we don’t even have that part we need yet. We can take it easy.”

Prompto lifted his face from the pillow, and both Noctis and Ignis turned to stare at him. Gladio stared right back. “What?”

Noctis put his hands on his hips. “Who are you and where did you put the real Gladio?”

“What, is it that weird that I’m willing to give Prompto a little leeway? It’s true.” Gladio scoffed and crossed his arms. “We can’t get to Altissia yet, plain and simple. We don’t know when we’ll be able to. We can ease up while we’re waiting. We can hunt sometimes if we need money, stay in Lestallum when we can - though we'll wanna move sometimes in case the Empire does march through again. If Cor gets info about a Royal Arm, we can track it down, but other than that, why don’t we just take it slow? We’ve been running ourselves ragged since Insomnia fell.” He shifted where he sat, gaze flicking down to the floor. “Since we’re not getting any closer to Altissia anytime soon anyway, we might as well not push ourselves too hard.” He snorted. “King Regis’ boat was in pretty bad condition, it’d be unrealistic to expect Cid to fix it in less than a day. That thing’ll probably take weeks. Ain't shit we can do about it. Let's take advantage of it.”

Prompto carefully rolled from prone to sit up again. “G-Gladio…”

“We’re all in this together,” Gladio said very seriously, looking between Prompto, Ignis, and Noctis. “If we fall, we all fall, and if we make it, we make it together. All five of us.” Gladio crossed his arms again. “Noct, you agree?”

“Yeah, for sure. We don’t have to push too hard right now. When we get to Altissia, we’ll play it by ear, but Insomnia can’t fall again, and Luna knows we’re trying.” Noctis' fingers curled against Prompto's back. "We'll get to Altissia when we get there, and we'll figure that out then. For now, Prompto gets what he needs.”

Ignis nodded, then leaned down to speak softly into Prompto’s ear. “Is that alright with you, darling?”

Prompto hunched his shoulders and turned his gaze between Gladio and Noctis, then bit his lip and shook his head. “I can’t ask you guys to do that.”

“You didn’t ask. We’re offering.” Ignis shifted so he could take Prompto’s hand. “There isn’t a single person in this room who wants to see harm come to you. It’s already been my intention to do whatever I can to ease your load.”

Prompto whined and tried to shrink down again. “Iggy-”

“We’re friends, Prompto.” Noctis slotted himself in beside Prompto on the bed as Prompto sat up and tried to dry his eyes. “All of us. We’re gonna take care of you first and foremost for a little bit.”

“If you can’t handle it by yourself, then the three of us’ll help. That’s the bottom line.” Gladio crossed his arms. “It's that or put you in a safe house, and unless you really want that, that's not happening." He winked at Ignis. "I'm pretty sure Iggy'd have an aneurysm if he couldn't keep an eye on you.”

Prompto sucked back his tears, then nodded. “Thank you. All of you guys…”

Gladio cracked a smile, and Noctis punched his arm (though not too hard). “So if I give you my french fries, you’ll eat them now, right?”

“Doctor Naline recommended healthy fats,” Ignis countered curtly. “So, we’ll be carrying ready supplies of trail mixes with assorted nuts and dried fruits.”

“‘N yogurt,” Prompto mumbled. “Like, full-fat. Ugh, I’m gonna be so fat and gross.”

“You kiddin’?” Gladio grinned a little wider. “I’m disappointed you don’t have more belly to rub! It’s good luck, don’t ya know?”

Prompto fixed Gladio with the harshest expression he could, then turned over onto the mattress again. “I think I wanna be alone for a little bit.” 

“Aw, c’mon, I’m teasing-”

“Gladio,” Ignis said flatly, but with enough hint of a warning to cut Gladio off. Noctis sighed and got up, hooking Gladio by his elbow and tugging him towards the door.

“C’mon. I’m gonna go ask around the market if anyone needs any odd jobs done, the farm runs are actually pretty nice.”

Gladio stood and followed Noctis out, and Ignis waited for them to leave, before rubbing Prompto’s shoulder. “My love, did ‘alone’ indicate for me to leave, as well?” 

Prompto shook his head, and Ignis stretched out alongside him, neatly spooning against his back and slinging an arm around his chest to put a hand over his heart. “May I ask you something frankly?” Prompto nodded. “Are you still frightened of gaining weight?” Prompto nodded again, and Ignis rested his palm heavier against him. “Do you think there is more to your stress than merely the fighting?”

“Everything is stressful,” Prompto mumbled. “I feel so useless, and I'm scared, and I can't do anything about it. I have to worry about everything, the fighting, the baby, this or that - the baby, Iggy, I’m not eating enough and I’m just getting fat and getting boobs, and-”

Ignis stilled suddenly, then embraced him with both arms. “Darling, do you think perhaps it’s a form of dysphoria?”

Prompto turned in Ignis’ arms and faced him, eyes wide. Ignis looked right back into his eyes, serious as the grave. “If it is, there’s no need to be ashamed. In many ways, your body isn’t your own right now.”

Prompto sucked on his lower lip, then rolled to lay flat on his back. “Damn. The first time I care about my body like that, it’s when I have to be what I don’t think I am.”

“I imagine it can be unnerving, sharing one’s body with someone else, but…” Ignis hesitated, then sighed and stroked Prompto’s hair. “But you know they’re depending on you.”

“I know. It's for...” Prompto trailed off as Ignis sat up and took the sonogram out of his pocket.

“They have gotten bigger, haven’t they?” He turned it to show Prompto. “After Doctor Naline said you were having trouble, you barely seemed to hear or see anything.” He let Prompto take a long look. “Think how much better things will be when we get you a little healthier.” 

Prompto inhaled, and centered on the image, the tiny form that had shown up on the monitor. The baby did look a little bigger, one little arm reaching out, tiny head bowed. He could swore they had his nose already. “They need me, right?”

“They need both of us. They need their whole family, and we’re all behind you, Prompto.” Ignis took his hand and squeezed it tight. “We’re all together now, and we’ll do it together. Our friends, you and I, them." Ignis cupped his chin and gazed into his eyes. "Is there anything you need from me right now?"

Prompto inhaled, then said, “Tell me I’m not disgusting.”

“You’re not.” Ignis frowned.

“Tell me you don’t care if I get heavier?”

“Not for a moment.” Ignis smiled sheepishly. “I’ve never cared about your weight, and I hear that rubbing a baby bump is good luck, as well.”

Prompto scrunched his nose. “Promise to ask first?”

Ignis lifted a hand in a swear: “Crownsguard honor, my dearest.”

Prompto finally smiled and wrapped his arms around Ignis’ shoulders. “Is the hug buffet still open?”

Ignis didn’t hesitate to embrace him in return. “Always, you hardly even need ask.”

Prompto sank into Ignis’ warmth, finally feeling a little like himself again. “Tell me I’m a good boy, please.”

Ignis inhaled sharply, then stroked his hair a few times. “Prompto, you’re a good man and you’ll be a wonderful father.”

That made Prompto feel a little more whole. “So will you.” He kissed Ignis, then rubbed his chin against Ignis’ shoulder. “Can I tell you anything, even if it sounds crazy?”

“Anything at all. Anytime, anywhere.” Ignis wrapped him in his arms and pressed him to his chest, and Prompto took it on faith.

"Then, when I’m scared, or worried, I'll tell you." Prompto bowed his head into Ignis’ shoulder. "We'll figure it out together."

"That we will, my sun and stars." Ignis held him tighter, and Prompto felt his hand drift down to just brush the top of his belly. "Do you hear that, my darling? We're going to take good care of you."

Prompto closed his eyes tight against the wall of emotion that rose in him at those words, but then, he'd heard so much to reassure him that he couldn't help feeling crushed by their affection.

The first thing Gladio had said on his return was out of concern for his health. Noctis really wanted the best for him, even if he didn’t know what that was. Ignis would take care of him like he’d promised. Even if he couldn’t handle this alone, he didn’t have to.

Gladio had counted them as "five." They'd gone from a party of three to a party of five, and that was reassuring in and of itself. With the promise of Altissia weeks away, Prompto would take whatever hand he could to get himself off the floor.


	16. It Takes A Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto tries to make the best of his situation, but with a lot more backup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was originally going to be more to this chapter, but suddenly it was really long and I was at a natural break! Please enjoy! (I hope to have the rest of what I was going to put in this chapter ready to share soon!)
> 
> Who's ready for some fluff? ;D
> 
> Content warning: Prompto and Gladio have a discussion about Prompto's body.

**16: It Takes a Village**

It took Holly a few days to finish machining the mythril ore, which was enough time for Prompto and Ignis to resupply and organize their affairs to optimize the time they would have to spend on the move.

Ignis had a list of supplies to purchase and load into the Armiger. Prompto had a diet tracker app on his phone now. He had to tick off certain boxes of what he ate daily or it would alert him, and Ignis would give him a bottled protein shake or a snack to fulfill what he was lacking. Ignis got him more vitamins and an extra cooler in the car just for snacks. He agreed not to wear his armor until Cid could expand it, and got bigger clothes again. However, the biggest change came from a conversation Prompto had with the others the night after his appointment:

"What can we do to help you?" Noctis sat on the opposite bed from Prompto, Gladio beside him and Ignis flush to Prompto's side. Prompto looked from eye to eye to eye, and grimaced as he wondered what they were thinking of him. He hummed and fidgeted, but Ignis bolstered him with an arm around the small of his back.

"Anything at all. Big or small. You have carte-blanche to ask for anything." Ignis turned and rubbed his nose to the shell of Prompto’s ear. “Anything you ask for, we’ll do our best to make it happen.”

“Um.” Prompto glanced to Ignis, then ducked down a little. “I guess… sometimes walking around gets kinda tough, especially when that sciatic nerve thing gets pinched… so, can we rent chocobos more often?”

“Sure.” Noctis shrugged, but Ignis hummed.

“We’ll have to see if it’s safe for you to ride one.” Ignis patted his knee. “But if your legs are bothering you when we’re walking, say something, we can find a haven.”

“Or I can carry you,” Gladio volunteered with a wave. “We’ll do what we can, just speak up if you’re hurting.”

Prompto winced, but ducked his shoulders down. “Th-thanks.” He dared to glance towards Gladio, but Gladio continued to look on benignly, calmly. He wanted to ask if Gladio thought he was weak or useless, but that would mean being exposed in front of Noctis.

“What else?” Noctis went on, still cool and friendly. Prompto bit his lip.

“I… I can’t think of much. I mean, we’re gonna sleep full nights, you said? That sounds nice.” He pressed his hands between his knees. “Um… the only thing I can think of…” He hesitated, but Ignis rubbed his back.

“Anything at all, darling.”

Prompto inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut for a second, then, haltingly, forced the words out: “Maybe… if I could have an hour - no, half an hour alone with Ignis every night?” Noctis’ eyes widened, and Gladio’s shoulders fell. Prompto’s spine stiffened, and he quickly waved his hands. “It doesn’t have to be every night! Or half an hour - haha, what was I thinking, what if you need him? I don’t-”

_“Prompto.”_ Noctis grimaced, looking sick. “Dude.”

“Dearest,” Ignis whispered into his ear as he slid his arms around Prompto and pulled him into a hug and out of his defensive posture, “They are not upset at you.”

“Nope.” Gladio popped the ‘p’ as he slumped backwards onto the bed. “Just realizing how fucked up it is that you feel like you have to _ask_ to have private time with your boyfriend.”

Ignis sighed and shook his head against Prompto’s arm. “I should have thought to suggest it sooner.” Prompto winced as Ignis wrapped him tighter in his arms.

“It’s… it’s selfish, isn’t it?” He tried to push his way out of Ignis’ embrace, but Ignis held him tighter.

“You’ve been invited to be selfish, my love." Ignis rubbed soothing circles on Prompto's back. "Besides, asking to spend time with me is not selfish.”

“Yeah, seriously, he’s your boyfriend.” Noctis crossed his arms. “You two should have, like, together time.”

“Bonding time,” Gladio muttered. “Especially as the kid starts getting, y’know, more aware in there. We can give you two space.”

Noctis sealed the deal: “You two get your own room when we get an inn room. If we’re in the caravan, me and Gladio can just sit outside on our own for a while, and if we’re in the tent, we can clear off for a little bit.” Noctis nudged Gladio’s chest with his elbow and grinned crookedly at Prompto. “You guys are a family. Family should get family time.” 

“Or couple time.” Gladio shrugged, and gave Ignis a quick, unreadable glance before schooling his features to neutrality. “Whatever it’s gotta be.”

Prompto flushed and shook his head. Ignis, however, shot Gladio a scathing look. “It will be whatever Prompto needs. If that constitutes an hour of hugs and quiet conversation, then so be it.”

Prompto tugged Ignis’ collar. “Don’t you need anything, Iggy?”

Ignis paused, considering, gazing at him intently, then kissed his brow. “For you to be happy.” 

With that settled, and the continued offer than anything Prompto needed, he would have, they set off again for Cape Caem to deliver the mythril ore. Noctis volunteered to drive, and Ignis sat in the back seat with Prompto, the two of them sitting closer than they had to as they drove on into the warm afternoon sun. 

Prompto let Ignis wrap an arm around the small of his back and rest his hand on his belly as they rode. Maybe it was good luck. He could actually see himself getting rounder by the day as those few days of gentler treatment took effect.

* * *

The first real test came when they couldn’t reach Caem by nightfall, and set up camp down by the Wennath. Noctis went fishing with Gladio at his back, and Prompto and Ignis got their first ‘hour of alone time.’ They spent it occupying the same camp chair, Prompto curled in Ignis’ lap and halfway asleep, and Ignis stroked his hair as they talked quietly.

“I wish the baby would move for us,” Prompto mumbled after a lull in the conversation. 

“They may be,” Ignis replied, carding his fingers through Prompto’s hair. “Only not so much that you can feel them yet. I remember reading that in a first pregnancy, you won’t detect the movement until later. Relax.” He turned and tapped Prompto on the nose. “Our little one will surely say ‘hello’ to you soon.”

“I wish.” He turned and cupped the swell of his middle. “You hear that? We wanna feel you. Squirm for me, okay?”

Ignis chuckled. “Yes, listen to your Daddy, darling.”

Prompto jumped a little. “Daddy, huh?”

Ignis realized what he’d said, and his cheeks pinked. “You are, aren’t you? Perhaps I can be Papa. I rather like the sound of it.” 

Prompto threw himself back into Ignis’ chest. “I love it! I can’t wait to hear ‘em say it!”

“I’d rather wait a little longer, myself.” Ignis smiled wryly and patted Prompto’s back. 

Before Prompto could respond, there was rustling below the base of the haven, and Gladio’s head popped up over the edge of the rock. Prompto sighed and crawled out of Ignis’ arms, but Gladio scoffed.

“I’m not gonna snap your head off if you two are cuddling.”

Ignis rose to his feet and let Prompto have the chair again. “Regrettably, I have to get up nonetheless, as I imagine Noctis is approaching with ideas for dinner.”

Gladio grinned broadly at this. “Actually-”

Noctis stomped up just then and threw himself into the chair beside Prompto. Gladio snickered as he settled in and got his book out. “Hey, Noct, wanna show ‘em your catch?”

Noctis grunted and held up a hand. A flash of blue appeared over his head as the Armiger opened, and a tire fell out. Noctis caught it in both hands. “Garbage. Figuratively and literally. Either too small to be worth a damn, or this.” He tossed the tire and made it vanish, and Prompto groaned with laughter.

“Spicy Longhorn Ribs it shall be, then.” Ignis stood, bent and kissed Prompto between the eyes, then fired up the camp stove. Noctis sighed, then glanced to Prompto. 

“Hey, man, you want me to get the thing set up?”

“What thing?”

“Yes,” Ignis answered on Prompto’s behalf, turning back from the stove with a wink. “Apologies, darling, it was a little bit of a surprise for you. Noctis, would you mind? There’s a battery-operated pump, just unroll it and turn the pump on.”

“You got it.” Noctis hopped up and summoned something from the Armiger - a large cardboard box. Prompto watched as Noctis got down and unrolled something in the tent, then hooked up a pump and turned it on. The whir of the pump got Gladio’s attention, and he put his book down to see what Noctis was doing.

“What is that thing?” Gladio’s brow scrunched as he looked into the tent, and Prompto twisted around to see the biggest, fluffiest air mattress he’d ever seen covering the entire floor of the tent, wobbling a foot off the ground like a particularly proud gelatin mold. Gladio seemed less than impressed, but Noctis looked smug and proud. 

“King-sized air mattress. I sold off some of the weapons we weren’t using so Iggy could get one.” Noctis nudged the mattress, and it bounced back, just as plump and firm. “Perfect, right?”

“It ain’t camping with one of those.” Gladio crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you just get a nice one for Prompto?”

Prompto flushed and was about to protest, but Noctis crossed his arms. “Because Ignis wants to be able to get on it with him so Prompto and baby can get hugs, and it’d be awkward for two of us to be sleeping on an uneven surface. This mattress is exactly as big as the area of the tent." Noctis' expression firmed up. "Also? We’re not camping. We’re trying to live the best lives we can while we’re on the move.” Noctis stared directly into Gladio’s face, defiant and still smug. “So, take the stick out.”

Prompto gasped, as Gladio stared right back at Noctis, nostrils flaring. Then, he smirked. “Fine. Yeah, guess the mattress will be better for your back, too. I’ll suck it up.” He sat back down, then nudged Prompto’s arm with a light punch. “Lucky you, that thing looks comfy.”

“Y-yeah.” Prompto smiled nervously, flushing to his ears. “It’ll make the havens a little nicer for everyone.”

No problems with their alone time. Nobody picking at him about the things he needed to feel happy. So far, so good.

* * *

The sun was rising - though, sunrise seemed to come later than usual these days - and Prompto had just gone down to the edge of the haven rock to get his yoga routine in while Ignis worked on breakfast. He was just finishing his morning stretches when he heard a slow round of applause from near the tent. "Damn, you're bendy for being, uh…" Prompto turned to look over his shoulder and winced when he realized Gladio had been watching him, and was now motioning to him. Prompto covered his middle with both hands - his workout clothes were tight and hid nothing, and his middle seemed to rise a little higher over his waistband every morning now.

"For being what?"

Gladio clammed his mouth shut for a second. "For, uh, a guy." He put his hands in his back pockets, eyes lowering. "That, uh, that wasn't better than 'round,' huh?"

Prompto scowled. "For your information, the baby book told me to do the stretches, 'cause my ligaments are loose and keeping limber will keep me from hurting myself." He turned his glare to the ground. "And I'm supposed to be round, okay? That's a good shape for me right now."

"It is." Gladio nodded, holding both hands up defensively. "You're keeping healthy. It's good! Some girls take advantage of being knocked up to get lazy and eat junk. Meanwhile, here's you, up early doing mommy yoga with Noct bitching about buying you those green smoothie bottles and pushing French fries on you while you're trying to eat your mountain of kale in peace." He grinned. "You're being a role model mom."

Prompto grimaced. "Um. I, uh, don't like 'mom.' I mean, I don't know what the right word is, but… 'mom' is wrong."

"Oh." Gladio actually swore under his breath, looking angry for a second, before schooling his expression. "Um. Well, when you know, let me know."

"I think I'm Dad. Iggy said he likes Papa." Prompto crossed his arms tight. "Did you, uh, need me for something?"

"Nah, not particularly. I was just gonna ask if you wanna go for a run with me." Prompto felt ice in his chest at that, as Gladio innocuously added, "Been a while since we did one of our morning runs. How about it?"

Gladio might as well have split Prompto like a log. He was of two minds: one half remembering their last run, and the other kind of missing that they'd had that. Ignis was observing them now too, frowning from the work table.

"You're allowed to say no." 

"You totally are." Gladio held his hands up again. "Your decision."

That was enough to convince Prompto. "Nah, let's try it. Just take it easy on me, I'm not really up to my full sprint right now."

Gladio actually lit up. "Awesome. Just one good loop. We won't keep Iggy waiting, yeah?" He went to the edge of the haven and pointed at a tree about a mile off. "Think we can do there and back before breakfast?" 

"You have half an hour." Ignis looked to Prompto. "Can you make it?"

"Yeah, I think so. That's nothing." He bounced on his toes, feeling out his muscles. "Okay, Gladio, you're on." 

The two of them lined up at the edge of the haven, and Gladio patted Prompto on the back. He shuddered, but heard Gladio say, "You give us the ready-steady-go." 

Prompto swallowed but nodded, and got himself in starting pose. "On three. Three, two, one…" He pushed off his back foot, and Gladio set off alongside him.

Prompto knew he was a little slower with the extra weight at his belly, so he expected Gladio to burst out ahead and tear away. Instead, Gladio's pounding footsteps echoed right next to him, on his left. Prompto knew he wasn't faster than usual, and Gladio had a longer stride to start with, so Prompto couldn't fathom how he was keeping up. It hit him as they passed the halfway mark: Gladio was deliberately slowing down to keep pace with him. 

"You doing okay?" Gladio panted when he spoke, just as they reached the tree. Prompto had to catch his breath before he answered:

"Hanging in there!"

"Awesome. Keep it up, and remember, it's not a race!" Gladio grinned, and picked up speed just a little, enough to spur Prompto to jog a little faster, but not more than he could handle. 

They got back to the haven with a few minutes to spare, panting and sweating, but Prompto didn't feel like he was about to die and Gladio looked satisfied. "Nice job. Damn good stamina, too!" He slapped Prompto on the back, sending him stumbling a step. Prompto caught himself, then mopped his brow and turned around, grinning proudly. 

"Hey, man, I might be carrying a little extra cargo, but I'm doing my best." He patted his belly, then tried to fan his face by tugging the collar of his tank and flapping it at himself. Gladio stopped cold.

"Uh, hey. Under your top, is that-?"

Prompto winced and smoothed his shirt back into place. "Um. Probably my bra, dude." 

"Oh." Gladio cocked his head, but handed Prompto a bottle of water. Prompto took a long drink, all the while keenly aware that Gladio was watching him. He gulped the water down and sighed.

"Yeah. I have boobs. They suck and I hate them, and hate having them. They're not big, but they're getting bigger. I used to bind, but now I have to wear sports bras all the time. It's a thing and I'm sorry if it's gross." Prompto crossed his arms over his chest. Gladio shook his head.

"Nah, sorry, it's just… Still weird to me."

Prompto snorted. "Weird to me, too. If I do get surgery, these are going first." He sighed and sat on the nearest camp chair, still fanning himself. "I'd forgo the bra, but honestly, running hurts if I don't wear one. They’re not even that big but they bounce around, and I can feel them."

"Honestly? You shouldn't worry about 'em." Gladio sat down next to him. "I honestly just kind of thought you were getting some pecs, y'know?" Gladio indicatively prodded his own chest. "You're pregnant and my tits are still bigger than yours." Prompto snorted, but Gladio chuckled. "Hell, mine jerk around when I run too, and it kills my back…" He trailed off, eyes going wide. "Hey. Hey, you think they make those in my size?"

"Sure. Big people gotta exercise too. Plenty of big guys need chest support." Prompto grinned and snapped his own strap. "I'll need to size up soon. You wanna come shopping with me?"

"Hah, sure!" Gladio held out a hand with a flat palm, and Prompto slapped it. "I never thought about a guy wearing a bra, but that's a damn good idea!"

"It is, right?" Prompto sat back, grinning. "Especially guys like us."

"Yeah," Gladio agreed, and Prompto sighed, contented in more ways than one.

Okay, maybe Gladio was actually learning something, or maybe he was trying. Either way, Prompto was more grateful than he had words to express.

* * *

They reached Caem that afternoon, and Prompto braced himself as they got out of the car. However, trouble wasn't waiting for them. Instead, Iris ran up to Gladio squealing with joy, and Noctis, Ignis, and Prompto looked to one another as she began to both hug him and scold him. They weren't getting him back anytime soon. Noctis finally smiled and shrugged. 

“Guess I’ll deliver the piece to Cid. You guys gonna ask him about the armor?”

“Yeah.” Prompto pulled the armor out of the Armiger, grimacing. “Um, Iggy-”

“With you all the way.” Ignis patted his back, and the three of them headed for the lighthouse. When they descended down into the basement dock, Cid was cranking away at something in an open panel in the bow of the boat. He turned as they approached, eyebrows raised.

“There you boys are! Sure took yer time.” He put his wrench down and hobbled towards them. Noctis took out the mythril.

“Sorry to say, but finding a rare metal and making it usable isn’t exactly child’s play.” He smiled wryly. “Besides, it looks like you still have some work to do.”

Cid scoffed a little as he took the mythril from Noctis. “It’ll be a good few weeks before she’s up and running, but this is one less thing I have to worry about. You boys are lucky I’m willing to break my back for the bunch of ya.” He went over to his work table to begin working with the mythril, but Noctis cleared his throat.

“Actually, we need one more thing from you. Hopefully it won’t take long, but it’s important.” Noctis glanced back to Prompto, then motioned to him. Prompto inhaled, then stepped forward, his armor in his hands. 

“Um. Hi.” Cid turned his focus to Prompto as Prompto edged towards him. “Um. You. Um. You’ve been able to enhance our weapons in the past, so I was hoping you’d be able to help me with this.” He unfolded the armor and held it up. Cid raised an eyebrow, then plucked at the nylon shell.

“Pretty bare bones. You need an extra layer?”

“Um… I need more of it.” Prompto tightened his empty hand into a shaking fist, willing his nerves back, then he dropped the armor onto Cid’s stool and flattened his shirt against his rounded middle. “So, um, I’m pregnant.”

Cid’s eyes went wide, and Prompto flinched. "You?" However, after a second, Cid shook his head. “Good grief, the things they can do in the city these days. Then I ought’a ask-” He turned to look at Ignis and Noctis, then marched right up to Noctis and slapped him across the face. “What the hell you were thinking, knocking that boy up?!”

“Hey!” Noctis stepped back, raising his arms. “First off, none of us knew Prompto could get pregnant! Second off, it wasn’t me!”

Ignis cleared his throat. “I do apologize for the confusion. It was an accident, but we intend to consider it a happy accident.”

Cid whipped around towards Ignis. “You mean _you_ -”

“Yup,” Gladio confirmed as he descended the stairs. “You ain’t seen that guy smile ‘less you catch him looking at the sonogram pictures.” 

Prompto grimaced as Cid glared at Ignis. “Don’t help him,” Prompto whispered, but it was too late.

Cid whipped his hat off his head by the brim and smacked Ignis on the forehead with it. “You! I thought you were the smart one!”

Ignis put his arms up to defend himself, terse and scowling. “I assure you-”

“Mr. Cid, please.” Prompto held his middle in both hands. “This was my mistake, okay? None of us knew that this sort of thing could happen, least of all me or Ignis, but I’m trying to make the best of it. I just want to protect my baby. If you’re gonna haul off on anyone, just go ahead and smack me, but then can you please fix my stuff?”

Cid stopped at this, scowling even deeper, then put his hands on his hips as he relented. “C’mon, now, why would I put my hands on you? Stars, boy.” He marched back over to Prompto and scooped the armor off the stool and laid it on the table. “So, you need it to get bigger through the belly?”

“Yes, please.” Prompto plucked at the seams where Aranea had torn them and refastened them together with some cord. “It was too tight, so I was having trouble breathing with it on.”

“Then it’s tight in the chest, too.” Cid furrowed his brow. “Lucky for you, Monica and Dustin brought a bunch of old equipment out of the Crownsguard storage. What I’ll do is put a loose layer of chain mail under it. It’ll be able to expand a little, since the rings can be pulled taut as you get bigger." He patted the outside of the vest. "I’ll put a little more of this bulletproof fabric over top of it. You might need another expansion in a few months, or maybe to stop putting yourself in situations where you gotta worry about getting hurt.” He gave Prompto a pointed look, then turned it back towards Ignis. “Y’hear that? You best find a safe place for this boy to be when that baby gets so big he can’t walk right, let alone fight.”

Prompto winced. “Mr. Cid, my job is to protect Noctis. I’m Crownsguard-”

“Hell, boy, Crownsguard has maternity leave!” Cid scoffed. “If they had desk work for ya, they’d give it, but this just put a damn exclamation point on when you -” At this, he turned his glare to Noctis - “Need to settle this mess!”

“Believe me, it’s high on the to-do list.” Noctis crossed his arms. “I’d prefer if Prompto not have to fight either, but it’s his choice.”

“I’m with Noctis until I can’t be anymore,” Prompto confirmed. “And that’s that.”

Cid studied Prompto, brow still furrowed, then slapped him on the back. “Fine. Good man. So, anyone wanna explain how the boy’s got a baby in him? And one of you better show me that sonogram thing.”

Ignis took the envelope out of his jacket. “For one reason or another, some young men have uteri and working ovaries. For other reasons, I occasionally run out of prophylactics and rely too heavily on hormonal birth control. The details are otherwise unimportant. This is our child.” He took the image out and turned it towards Cid. Cid actually smirked as he looked. 

“Ain’t that something?” He took hold of the edge of the picture for a moment. “Ain’t seen one’a these in, not since…” He trailed off, face working through a melange of sentiment, before nodding, resolved. “Alright, I’ll do what I can to help ya protect your little happy accident. Send Monica on up here on your way out.”

Ignis put the sonogram back in the envelope and into his jacket, and put an arm around Prompto’s shoulder. Prompto frowned as Ignis escorted him to the stairs, and asked in a mumble, “I guess we gotta tell Dustin and Monica too, huh?”

“They know,” Gladio supplied as he fell in behind him up the stairs. “Iris told them - or, they overheard her and Talcott talking about it. They were both asking about you when I was in their cabin. You and Specs oughta go make an appearance.” He smiled rather peacefully. “Iris is excited, too. You’re gonna have to tell her the whole boy-or-girl thing is still a surprise.”

Noctis chuckled and cast a sly grin at Prompto. “I bet she’s making the baby another chocobo. She probably wants to know whether to make it in blue or pink.”

Prompto laughed. “Yellow’s fine!”

After a quick visit to the cabin (where Dustin formally congratulated Ignis with a hearty handshake, Monica asked to touch Prompto’s belly (which he tentatively allowed, and was grateful that her touch was brief and gentle), and Iris agreed that yellow was a perfectly good color for a chocobo plushie), they were returning to the Regalia to run errands until the armor was ready. “I think we need to go to the farm to get some smelly onion, and last time we were in Hammerhead, Takka mentioned his chocobean delivery wasn’t coming through,” Noctis recalled. “So, we’ll do a little runaround making deliveries until it’s safe for Prompto to be on the field again.”

“It’ll never be safe,” Gladio muttered. “None of us are ever gonna be safe if someone or something wants us dead.”

“I just want to feel a little safer,” Prompto admitted as they reached the car. “It might be an illusion, but it’ll make me feel better. It’s something, right?”

“If it makes you feel better,” Ignis said, “It’s everything.” 

With that, they drove on towards the farm to make the deliveries. Killing demons could wait a few days.

* * *

Cid called with Prompto's augmented armor a week later. Prompto had been enjoying the farm work, helping dig up onions and potatoes, but he had been starting to miss his pistol in his palm. 

After all, a guy could only hide with his basket of onions so many times while listening to the others fight off a pack of Voretooths before he started to feel inadequate.

The new armor was great. The chainmail was a little loose, but Prompto knew it would get tighter and fit closer as the weeks passed. It wasn’t so heavy that it kept him from moving easily, and it wasn’t restrictive at all. The next time they were sent out hunting bees, he could keep on the move and strafe from far back, running around the perimeter of the battlefield and firing from cover whenever he had an opening. They got the hunt, they got paid, and picked up a few other things to hunt out near Ravatogh. They rode out to Ravatogh to get closer to the hunt, but by the time they reached the base of the mountain, the sun was going down. 

“We’ll take daemons on if we must, but if it can be avoided, I’d rather not,” Ignis declared as he pulled into the station near the base of the trail. With that, they were settling down for the night by the Ravatogh outpost, Noctis selling off some treasure Gladio had picked up in the field, Ignis putting together a quick stew on the caravan stove, and Gladio setting up the camp chairs under the canopy. Prompto settled in to stretch his legs and put his feet up for a few minutes. 

It felt like it had been a while since he’d been on a proper hunt in the field, even if it had only been two weeks since they'd left Steyliff Grove. The ache of being on the move and fighting his way across the field was a familiar sort of contentment in his bones now. He felt equal measures accomplished, useful and tired. He sprawled in his camp chair and kicked his legs out, then gave his middle a rub. "Pretty good day, right, kiddo?" 

The baby didn't respond. Prompto could still feel his own touch through the armor, and he hoped they could hear him. Gladio, from the quizzical look he gave him, had. Prompto dodged his gaze. "Hey, wake me up in ten, okay? I need to clean my guns, I think I got bug juice in there."

Gladio snorted as he returned his attention to his book. "You were nowhere near those bugs. Iggy went apeshit on any of them that got close."

"Grease and gunpowder, then." Prompto shrugged. "Either way. Ten minute nap."

"Whatever." Gladio gave him a thumbs up and flipped a page. Prompto closed his eyes tight.

He did not wake up to Gladio shaking his shoulder. Instead, it was Gladio's voice, coming to him from further than he recalled: "Going all out, huh?"

Gladio wasn't talking to him. Instead, Noctis replied: "Have you see Prompto with his weapons? He's thorough. Like, really thorough." Prompto opened an eye to see Noctis sitting on the ground with his tarp spread out and his pistol disassembled. Noctis was taking the brush to the gears. Gladio was standing behind him and observing. "You seem surprised."

"Haven't seen you do it before."

"Most of the time, I don't use the guns." Noctis shrugged minutely, being oddly precarious with the machine. "I trained with them, though. Cor said, back when he trained me, if I'm gonna use a weapon, I need to know how to take care of it. The Armiger can do a lot to preserve the quality of the swords and knives, but they still need to be sharpened sometimes. Prompto cleans his guns virtually every night after he uses them. I don't usually use the guns, but I trained with them, so I can clean them." Noctis didn't look up from the mechanism as he put a few drops of oil in. "That way, Prompto can nap a few minutes longer." 

"Huh. Yeah, he asked me to get him up, but Iggy said if I touched him he'd take my fingers off, and he'd clean the guns later himself."

Noctis snorted. "Got it covered."

"Is that why I see you Moogling how to reassemble his specific model on your phone?"

"Shut up." Noctis shifted to hide his phone screen behind his leg. 

"Whatever, scoot." Gladio sat down next to Noctis and grabbed the tool kit. "Cor showed me how to clean guns too. I was gonna do it after I finished my chapter, you just beat me to it. Let's just put these things back together."

Noctis smiled wryly. "Right."

Prompto rolled over in the camp chair so they wouldn't see the tears streaming down his face. He had never minded cleaning his guns, but they had gone out of their way to take care of him. He felt so loved it was like a dream he didn't want to wake up from, not even when Ignis fluffed his hair and kissed his forehead.

"Up you get, darling. Dinner first, then you can sleep 'til morning." Prompto opened a bleary eye to see Ignis smiling affectionately at him from above. "I see the baby tired you out."

"Eh, y'know. Been carryin' em all day. For months." He patted his middle as he rose, and glanced over to Noctis and Gladio, who were just finishing reassembling the pistol. Noctis looked like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but Prompto grinned at him. "You cleaned it?" He tried to sound surprised, even as the genuine emotion welled in his throat. "You guys are seriously the best!"

"Anytime." Noctis handed the pistol back to him. "You get my back, I got yours."

Prompto wasn't sure when he'd last felt this happy. He gripped his pistol tight, conscious of the kindness Noctis had put into caring for it, a proxy of his affection for him.

* * *

Weeks passed, peaceful and serene as they could be while on the move. They hunted frogs for Sania, they ran trips to the farm for the market in Lestallum and hunted monsters for the armory, they found parts for Cindy and did hunts for the tipsters across Cleigne and Duscae. Soon enough, Prompto had counted four weeks since his last visit to the doctor, and he pointed it out to Ignis as they drove back towards Lestallum:

“I should probably check in with Doctor Naline while we’re here, huh?” 

Prompto made an appointment, and Ignis went with him. They sat in the waiting room, hand in hand and with Prompto nervously rubbing the swell at his hips. He felt out of place now, noticeably pregnant and very much a man, surrounded by women who were in a similar condition and giving him sideways looks.

"Don't mind them," Ignis told him in a whisper, and Prompto realized he'd been squeezing Ignis' hand too tight. "They're merely jealous that most of them are here without their child's father, and our child has _two_ fathers."

Holding in his laughter kept Prompto busy for the rest of the wait. It didn't quite kill the dysphoria but it was an awesome distraction.

Step one was the scale. The nurse asked him to step on. Prompto held his breath, flinching as he made to remove his shoes and vest, then gave her a doleful look. "Please don't tell me the number, okay? Just tell me whether or not I've gained a healthy amount of weight."

Ignis held a strained noise in his throat, but the nurse agreed with a cheerful smile. Prompto turned around and closed his eyes tight as he stepped backwards onto the scale, and tried not to listen as the nurse adjusted the meters behind him. Finally, she tapped his shoulder. "You're done! The doctor will evaluate the specifics." She wrote the number down and closed the folder so Prompto wouldn't have to see. Ignis sighed as they were led to an examination room. However, he waited until the door was shut and they were alone.

"Darling." Ignis caught his hand. "You know I think you very handsome, don't you?" Prompto bit his lip as Ignis, eyebrows all wrought up with worry, shook his head. "I don't care about what the number on the scale says. You are perfect as you are."

Prompto's mouth worked, and he shook his head. "Sorry, Igs. I can't like being this heavy."

"Heavy," Ignis repeated, frustrated. "Is it wrong to admit I rather enjoy you heavier? I used to worry for you when you were thin, that you'd get cold too easily, or that you were fragile. You actually look like I feed you." He crossed his arms. "I know of your insecurities, my love. I wish I could reassure you of them. All I can do is remind you that you are the only one who sees any flaw in your looks."

Prompto sighed, then wrapped an arm around Ignis' back and leaned in to kiss the corner of his frowning mouth. "I know, Igs. One of these days, it'll stick. For now, I'm gonna be miserable about being fat and put the exam gown on." He took the gown in its plastic wrapping and pulled a curtain around the bed to change. He noticed, with a grim-cast satisfaction, the nurse had given him a blue gown this time.

Doctor Naline gave her now-familiar examination, a gentle palpation, a few measurements, and a pelvic exam. "You're almost back on track with your weight," she reported. "Basal height is only a little less than what I want to see. Most everything else looks okay." She sat in her rolling chair, facing Prompto where he sat on the table as Ignis sat on the chair near the door. "Your blood pressure is low again. Have you been feeling faint?"

"No, just sleepy." Prompto shook his head. "I thought the baby was just wearing me out."

"That's equally likely." Doctor Naline grinned and scooted back in her chair. "Just keep hydrated, make sure you rest when your body tells you to rest, and keep doing what you're doing. You've made a fantastic turnaround. Do you have any questions for me?"

Prompto glanced to Ignis, swallowed, and braced himself. "Um. I've noticed my ankles hurting. Is that normal?"

"Yup. You might notice some swelling, too. Elevate your ankles when resting, or ask your Mister here to massage them."

Ignis took his little notebook from his side pocket and scribbled something in the planner. "Nightly massages to ankles and feet. Duly noted."

Doctor Naline giggled. "What a trooper. Anything else on your mind?"

Prompto grimaced. "Um. So. This is weird, but…" Ignis leaned forward with interest, and Doctor Naline smiled neutrally. He gestured indicatively as an excuse not to look the doctor in the eyes. "Okay, so, I've never had a super-high sex drive, but a couple times in the last week or two, I've noticed that I've been, um, feeling extra frisky."

Ignis was aghast. "And why is this the first time I'm hearing this?!"

Doctor Naline laughed. "Oh, wow. Perfectly normal, I promise. Increased sex drive is a possibility due to the hormonal changes. Sex is completely safe, as long as you listen to your body and don't hold yourself in any positions that are uncomfortable. I do have a pamphlet on recommended baby-safe sex positions, especially for the third trimester onwards, give me one second." As she dug in her drawer for the pamphlet, Prompto saw Ignis scribbling furiously in his little notebook. 

He bit his lip and tried not to blush, equal parts humiliated and excited for whatever Ignis had planned. 

The sonogram picture was the highlight. The baby had deliberately curled their legs in, as if to say 'my dads want to be surprised and so will everyone else.' However, they were much bigger than they had been during the last exam, and Doctor Naline was impressed:

"They're starting to get chunky now! Most babies are kind of twiggy up until about the twenty-sixth week, but I'm seeing those little arms and cheeks getting thicker. Your baby's gonna have the most pinchable cheeks if you keep this up. Just remember, you're gonna get bigger because they need to get bigger. You want a big, healthy baby with chubby cheeks, right?" Prompto flushed and nodded. Doctor Naline kept smiling as she shifted the scanner to focus on the baby's head. "Plus, the brain's about to do a lot of growing, so those healthy fats are important. We can't see the brain, so you're just going to have to make sure you get lots of brain food in your diet!" She grinned as she enlarged the image to capture their baby, head to toe, and printed it. She concluded the visit by giving Ignis and Prompto copies of the best image. "Keep doing what you're doing. You and baby are gonna be fine."

At the Leville that night, Prompto passed on the news to Noctis and Gladio, and shared the picture: "The baby's getting better. Much bigger, see?” He grinned and thumped his chest as Noctis looked at the photo, wide-eyed with winder. “I'm way healthier since last time, too."

"Good. We're doing right by you." Noctis patted his back as he passed the sonogram to Gladio. Gladio took a look and snorted.

"Baby's being shy, huh?" He held the picture up. "They've gotten into proportion. The head fits on the body now." He grinned and waved the photograph. "Still, that tank top of yours tells me the baby's gotten bigger even without the doctor's report!" He poked the bottom of Prompto's belly, and Prompto's face flooded crimson as he realized his shirt was riding up. He yanked it back down and collapsed onto the bed with a groan as Gladio laughed raucously.

"Okay, so I need new clothes." Prompto sighed. "Awesome."

"We'll take you out tomorrow." Gladio smirked as he returned to his book and passed the sonogram to Noctis. “I could use some new clothes, too. Remember, Prompto?” He winked at him. “You said you’d come with me.”

"I wanna get more baby stuff," Noctis said, and he threw himself into the bed next to Prompto, still studying the sonogram. "We have some clothes and toys, but I want to start Junior's library and get some baby blankets. Also, one of those baby slings, so you can have them on you all the time when they get here."

"When they get here, huh?" Prompto smiled fondly as he thought of it. "I can't wait."

"I can." Ignis smiled to himself as he turned over the pamphlet he was reviewing while taking enthusiastic notes. "Another sixteen weeks, preferably, and we've got a lot to do before then."

"Yeah," Prompto agreed, flexing his toes. He realized he could only barely see his toes, and found himself strangely satisfied. "But even after carrying them that long, I'll never want to put them down."

"You're gonna have to share," Gladio reminded Prompto, smirking, then took the sonogram image to Noctis and passed it back to Ignis. "Everyone's gonna want a piece of them."

"Since we all helped," Noct added, and nudged Prompto's side. Prompto grinned.

"Yeah." He looked around at the others, eye to eye to eye, and relaxed. "Thanks, guys."

"It's no big." Gladio waved a hand.

"Happy to help." Noctis slung his arm around Prompto's shoulders. Ignis rose from his seat and kissed Prompto on the cheek.

"Anything for you," he told him. "All you need to do is ask."

This time, Prompto believed him. He really, really wanted to.


	17. Here and There, Now and The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is moving and changing, as is Prompto's world, and both are coming faster than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience! I admit I'm a little iffy on one scene in this chapter, but hopefully it came across alright. Also, there's a surprise at the very end of the chapter. <3 Enjoy!

**17. Here and There, Now and The Future**

Prompto was due in sixteen weeks, and there was a lot to accomplish between then and now. Prompto fancied that if they were home, in Insomnia, that might include decorating a nursery, putting up baby chocobo wallpaper and buying a rocking chair, building a crib and filling it with way too many stuffed animals. Hopefully the schedule would include lots of sleep with time for light exercise and maybe leisure time with his favorite three people, but especially his very favorite person.

Instead, he was waking up in the caravan, with half of the covers on and half off, Noctis asleep on his side of the futon, and Ignis and Gladio faintly in his hearing outside. They were waiting for their boat to be ready to sail to Altissia, and roving around Lucis until then. As Prompto got up to the smell of cinnamon oatmeal on the camp stove and the sound of his friends talking outside, he decided he was okay with his current situation.

He rose and pulled pants on, leaving Noctis peacefully snoring in his wake despite the caravan floor faintly creaking under him, and went to do his morning stretches while watching the sunrise over Mount Ravatogh. Ignis was stirring the pot, as was Gladio, albeit only metaphorically:

"C'mon, Igs. Prompto's gotten way better lately! He can handle a little carb load. The energy’ll be good for him and baby."

"While Prompto could certainly use the extra carbohydrates, it's the sodium I worry about. For everyone under my care." Ignis' tones were sharp in comparison to Gladio's rounded laughter. "If you wish to give yourself hypertension for breakfast, that is your prerogative, but not to my King, my partner, or my son or daughter. You will keep your cheap, oversalted noodles to yourself." Prompto stifled a snicker as Gladio continued to beg Ignis for Cup Noodles for breakfast as a "warm up" for their hike today.

Noctis had heard a rumor about an old treasure hidden somewhere on Ravatogh, and that sent them back towards the mountain. They'd picked up a few more tips, hunts, and favors that needed to be done in the area, besides, and Noctis was very good about returning favors. Today, they were going up the mountain, around the foothills, maybe even out towards the plains again to take care of it all. It sounded like a lot of running around, and for the first time, Prompto was hesitating. 

His toes were vanishing little by little, and though knowing his baby was healthier was a relief, he was feeling the strain of carrying them more and more. The round bump above his hips was almost as heavy physically as it had been metaphorically, and even though the anxiety was fading, the physical ache was setting in.

The stretches would help, he told himself. Plus, Ignis had promised to soothe every ache and scratch every itch he had.

"He's up, doing his stretches," Gladio's voice floated over the camper again. "I saw him come out, he's behind the caravan, facing the sun. He takes it seriously."

"I would never expect less of him." Prompto just knew Ignis was smiling. "We have a big day ahead of us, virtually every day."

"It doesn't have to be. You could just, y'know. Take a day. Just say the word. Cid still isn't done with the boat." Gladio was quiet for a moment. "Noct can go fishing. I got a book. You two can, y'know, bond."

Ignis didn't respond, as Prompto shifted his weight and spread his arms into Warrior pose. Then, almost inaudibly, he went on with suspicion creeping in his tones. "You're being oddly casual."

"I told you. I'm prioritizing. Prompto's been way less shaky since he started getting private cuddle time with you on the regular. You've been more chill, too. Also, you two are adorable."

"Gladio."

"I know it sounds weird, but it's kinda nice to see you two being all domestic like that. It's… it's comforting." Gladio paused. "Makes me feel like things might be okay again someday."

Prompto adjusted to tree pose, right foot planted against left knee, and breathed deep.

"They will be," Ignis said quietly, but sharply enough that it still cut into Prompto's hearing. "I'm certain. We will make it so."

Prompto switched legs, but found that his breathing didn't come as easily. The pose wasn't coming as easily either.

After breakfast, they geared up for the hike up Ravatogh. As Ignis finished packing their lunch and Noctis got a few more curatives and spell grenades ready, Prompto tried to stretch his legs out again, but something wasn't clicking. He grimaced to think of a whole day climbing the mountain, and decided he couldn't avoid the truth:

"There's no way I can do this hike." He put his foot up on the table and flexed, groaning a little as he reached his limit. “I’ve got this weird cramp in my legs just thinking about it. I think it’s that sciatic nerve thing.” He bit his lip as he felt the others staring at him. “You think maybe we can ride chocobos a little while?”

Noctis was already putting money in the meter. “On it.”

Prompto tried not to look too relieved or delighted.

The birds trotted up a moment later, squawking cheerfully, and Prompto eagerly fluffed the head feathers of the bird nearest him. The chocobo happily  _warked_ back, nuzzling Prompto's chin, then bumping his chest. Ignis had been flipping through the baby book intently, then searching for something on his phone. As Prompto mounted, Ignis hurried up to him and the bird. “Are you quite comfortable?”

“Mostly okay.” Prompto shifted back in the saddle, finding that his bump was nudging the cantle where the saddle braced the bird’s neck. “Yeah, as long as I’m careful not to press my tummy up against the front of the saddle.”

“I see.” Ignis bit his lip, then got on tiptoe and spoke softly. “It’s really not especially safe. If you fall, or if you’re jostled around too much, it could be very bad for the baby.”

“I won’t fall. Promise.” Prompto hooked his feet in the stirrups, shifting his belly up against the cantle again, and Ignis winced. 

“And if you become uncomfortable sitting like that, perhaps try bracing yourself side-saddle?” Ignis turned and took his bird’s reins, then mounted so that he was seated sideways on the bird, legs together, holding the horn of the saddle in one hand and the reins in the other. “It’s not as stable, but it may be easier on your pelvis.”

“Whoa, Iggy, goin’ fancy!” Noctis whistled from atop his bird. 

Gladio glanced over to them and laughed. “Like a princess.” He trotted forward, nudging the bird’s sides with his heels. “We ready to ride?”

“Almost!” Prompto carefully swung his leg back over the side of the bird, sitting side-saddle. “Like this, Iggy?”

“It’s not as stable, so only do it if you’re uncomfortable.” Ignis remounted his bird in a standard mount. “But you must admit, there is something inherently cool about the idea of riding into battle side-saddle on the back of a chocobo.” Ignis winked and trotted forward. “Shall we ride?”

Prompto turned the idea over, then grinned. “Yeah.” He patted his bird’s back. “You hear that? We’re gonna be cool, even though I’m chubby!” The chocobo pleasantly warked in response, looking contented at Prompto’s fluffing treatment. He guided the chocobo towards the mountain, holstered his gun at his hip, and lined up with the others. “Okay, so my legs are feeling okay and I’m pretty sure that as long as I’m careful, I can ride my chocobo…” He paused, making sure all three of them were looking at him, before finishing, “All day.”

Gladio groaned, and Noctis punched his shoulder. “You’re the one who called the chocobos, Highness.” He spurred his chocobo forward. “Come on. Let’s ride.” 

Together, they rode off up the mountain, the wind in Prompto’s hair, and he pressed the hand holding the reins to his middle as the bird galloped along. 

Even though his voice was lost in the breeze, he couldn’t help but sing the song to the baby. If he wanted anything more, it would be to ride with them someday: _"We want to ride our chocobo all day, from Cleigne to Duscae, from there to Galdin Quay…"_

* * *

They spent a few days on the trail. They took the birds as far as they could, so Prompto only had to manage the hike up to the top on foot. That was the hardest part. It was almost unbearably hot near the crater of the dormant volcano, but Ignis kept pushing water onto everyone. Prompto didn't mind, except for needing bio-breaks, like _fifteen times a day._  

"Get off my bladder," he scolded the baby more than once, and couldn't help but think of it as their first argument, even though one of them couldn't argue back. He did tell Ignis, who only laughed:

"Are they causing you such trouble? I suppose you'll have to send them to their _womb._ "

Prompto laughed for much longer than he should have, drowning out Gladio's jeers and Noctis' shout of "You're not funny!" Ignis got razzed for his bad pun and defended himself with a series of increasingly bad puns all the way back down the trail.

They hadn't known the night they returned from their trip up the mountain would be special.

It was like any night at the caravan, Ignis cooking, Noctis taking a nap by the campfire after putting together a bunch of potions, as they'd run out their stocks fighting Saphyrtails, Gladio reading, and Prompto setting the table. He put down the last fork and checked in with Ignis: “Anything else I can do to help, Igs?”

“I told you, love, you needn’t strain yourself.” Ignis shook his head, still smiling. “Go and sit.”

“Aw, are you sure?” Prompto strolled over to join him, and got a good sniff of the pot on the stove, pungent with piquant spice and richness. “Oh, wow, that smells so good! What’s on the menu tonight?”

Ignis chuckled, holding his chin up with pride. “Thank you. Roasted daggerquill with pilaf, and -” He whispered close to Prompto, “lots of finely diced carrots and peppers. Loads of Vitamin A and C, for you and baby and certain vegetable-averse princes.”

Prompto giggled, lacing his fingers over his middle. “Aw, you hear that, kid? Daddy’s got your number.” He leaned towards the stove. “You sure I can’t help?”

“I’m quite fine, darling. I implore you,” Ignis kept talking, but it was just then that Prompto _felt_ something. It was like a bubble popping against his ribcage. Ignis was still talking, but Prompto felt the blood drain from his face. 

_What the hell was that?_

Prompto put a hand on his belly and pushed in a little, but then he felt _something_ again, this time more like a fluttering. _Oh._ “Oh shit.”

“Prompto?” Ignis frowned and cocked his head. “Is something the matter?”

The feeling stopped as silence hung between them, as Prompto tried to process. “Um, uh-”

“Come, sit, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The feeling started up again when Ignis spoke, tiny flutters and a wiggling sensation near the front and top of his belly, and Prompto locked his knees, refusing to move.

“I’m okay, Igs, promise." He stared through Ignis, afraid to break whatever spell this was. "Keep talking. Um, tell me what’s for dinner again? What's in it?”

Ignis blinked a few times. “Daggerquill and rice. Aromatics. Is there something wrong with that? Would you like something else?”

“No, no. Keep talking.” The motion felt like a storm that died down when Ignis stopped talking, and tears were pricking at Prompto’s eyes. “Keep, keep talking. Anything. Weather forecast tomorrow? Extended?”

Ignis gaped in disbelief. “ _Weather_ \- Prompto, talk to me! What is it?” Ignis touched his face, and Prompto seized his hand.

“Talk, talk, talk and tell me you can feel that!” He put Ignis’ palm against the top of his belly, and Ignis gasped. 

“Feel what - feel - what did you want me to -?” Prompto felt it again, right against where he'd pressed Ignis’ hand, and Ignis jumped with surprise. “That! Did you - Are they - Did they -”

“They move when you talk!” Prompto grabbed at his own mouth as the tears broke loose. “They like the way your voice sounds - talk to them, talk to them!”

Ignis laughed, delirious and joyful, and dropped to his knees. He hugged Prompto around the middle, pressing his cheek against Prompto’s front. “The weather tomorrow will be temperate and mild, and very good weather to travel. We’ll keep the top down so your father and I can enjoy the wind in our hair. If we see a stream, we’ll go fishing for a bit. There’s a chance of rain in the evening, but -” Another laugh, wild and a little delirious, bubbled out of Ignis. “Astrals, Prompto, it feels like they’re dancing.”

“I know!” Prompto laughed too, resting his hands on Ignis’ back. “It’s - it’s so amazing! I can feel them, they’re -” He swallowed hard, actually starting to feel dizzy in the excitement. “Oh, Six, they’re really there, and they’re alive…”

He staggered a little, but Ignis hugged him tight around the middle to keep him in place, right as Gladio put a big hand on his back and set a camp chair right behind him. “I think,” he said, gruffly but not even remotely unhappily as he pushed Prompto down into the chair by his shoulders, “they’re getting all excited for Iggy because when he talks, it’s special.” His eyes were glimmering a little bit. “When you talk, that’s normal. It probably helps ‘em relax to hear you talking, but Iggy? That’s exciting.”

“Which is why Iggy should keep talking.” Noctis had jumped up at some point and come over. “You said you can feel the baby moving? Move it, I wanna feel.”

“Noctis, don’t be rude.” Ignis smoothed Prompto’s hair. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Y-yeah, just - it’s a lot, wow.” Prompto patted the swell at his middle. “Um, Noct, if you wanna feel, gimme your hand.”

“It’s gentle but distinct,” Ignis said, as Noctis let Prompto guide his hand to the right spot. “I’m certain Prompto feels it better than any of us will, but as they get stronger, so shall their movements.”

“I read it in the book,” Prompto added helpfully, right as he felt the baby shifting again and Noctis jerked his hand back in surprise.

“It really did move!”

“You think that’s weird now, wait ‘til the baby’s nearly done cooking.” Gladio smirked, but even he couldn’t resist putting the flat of his palm onto Prompto’s middle where Noct had been. Prompto cringed, but Gladio was being so _gentle_. “If the brat’s squirming around a lot, you’ll see his whole belly move around. Like an alien movie.”

Noctis swallowed a gag. “Whoa. That’s - that’s a lot.”

“It is, as you put it, a lot.” Ignis smiled fondly and kissed Prompto on the cheek. “They’re getting strong, you’re doing so well!”

“They really are,” Gladio remarked, admiringly. “Now you keep your ass in that chair and let Iggy fawn over you.”

“Ah, yes. Let the fawning continue.” Ignis pressed a crown of kisses over Prompto’s brow. Prompto glowed in the praise, and in the safe knowledge that their baby was getting strong and already loved their Papa.

Later, over the campfire, comfortably seated and still enjoying the baby's little pops and rolls inside of him between rounds of King’s Knight, he found himself musing on it: “I wonder if they can hear you guys, too.”

“Can the baby hear Gladio and Noct, you mean?” Ignis answered, glancing up from his grocery list. Gladio peered up from his novel, as Noctis tapped the phone screen impatiently. “They can hear them as much as they do me, I suppose.”

“Better start watching your mouth, Gladio,” Noctis taunted without looking up.

“Better start being a better role model,” Gladio shot back. 

“I guess they just like you best.” Prompto grinned, but Ignis shook his head.

“Love, they surely like you best. They hear your voice day in and day out. I remember hearing you talk to them when you thought you were alone with them, long before they could possibly have heard you.” 

Prompto sealed his mouth a moment. “Y … yeah. I’ve been talking to ‘em since the day they found out they were there.” He rubbed his belly with both hands. The bump was big enough for both now. “I … Igs, maybe you could think of a name for a boy? I’ll work on names for a girl. If we’re gonna talk to ‘em, I wanna start trying out names.”

Ignis had straightened up at Prompto’s request, and both Noctis and Gladio had turned, too. “I… absolutely." He nodded sharply as if he'd received marching orders from Cor Leonis, expression explicitly serious. "Yes. I’ll brainstorm, and we can decide on a few until we meet them and choose for certain.”

Prompto beamed and scooted his chair closer to Ignis’ spot. “Yeah. Hear that, baby? We’re gonna give you a name." He glanced to the others, sheepish at talking to someone who wasn't really there, not yet. "I’ve just been calling ‘em baby, but they feel more real all the time, so they need a name.”

Ignis reached over and took Prompto’s hand. “I’ll think of some.” Prompto squeezed his hand once, beaming, before the round started and he jerked his hand back to focus. 

“Let’s show ‘em who’s boss, Noct.”

“You’re on. You, me, and Iggy Junior.” Noctis smirked like he usually did, but Gladio’s expression was still soft as he returned to his novel and they all lavished in the comfort of a peaceful night.

With the baby kicking and bouncing in response to the chirps and chimes off of his phone, to Noctis’ laughter and Ignis’ voice, they felt more like a party of five all the time.

* * *

Noctis had been talking to Hunters during some of Prompto and Ignis' cuddle hours, going with Gladio to outposts and gathering information, and now that he had nothing more pressing than investigating wild hare clues, the chase was on for Royal Arms and other treasures. Over the weeks, the party roamed Lucis east and west, from a thicket near the Myrlwood to a little forest west of the Disc, to a creepy Tower Noctis insisted on entering alone, and after a solid few weeks on the move, they all agreed they had earned a day or two off.

They'd gone to camp out near Galdin Quay - Noctis had apparently also heard a rumor about some interesting fish on a secluded pier relatively near the harbor - when Cid called them a few days later. He wasn't calling to report that the boat was ready, but with a suggestion:

_"If y'all plan on taking the Regalia to Accordo, ya might wanna have her serviced. I wouldn't want her to break down on you in the thick of enemy territory if you drive out of Altissia for any reason."_

Noctis grimaced as he looked out at the water. "You're not wrong. I'd hate for anything to happen to the car over there. We'll drive up to Hammerhead first thing in the morning."

Prompto had been enjoying a few days of putting his feet up by the ocean, but he couldn't help but erupt with excitement when Noctis hung up. "Awesome! We get to go see Cindy!"

"Sure do," Gladio agreed as he jumped up from his set of one-armed pushups ( _show-off_ ), and smirked. "Guess she'll be seeing a lot more of you, too?"

"Gladiolus." Ignis whipped around on him, and Prompto blanched. Gladio muttered an apology, but Prompto bit his lip and tried to shake it off even as he felt his mood swing like it had been pushed.

"'M supposed to be this big, right? I'm _supposed_ to have a tummy."

"Yeah, of course, of course!" Gladio was panicked now, and Prompto realized his face was getting hot. "Just, she'll be surprised 'cause she hasn't seen ya!"

"Yeah." Prompto blinked back a tear he hadn't felt coming. He wiped his face clean on his hands, but felt a tap on his shoulder. Noctis was holding out a rumpled tissue.

"It's okay, man. Cindy'll probably be more excited about the baby than anyone else so far." He smiled lopsidedly as Prompto dried his eyes. "She'll probably think you're even cuter than she did before."

Prompto tried to reassure himself as he dried his tears. "Well, anything is more than 'zero,' so-"

Gladio yelped, and Prompto saw Ignis glowering at him with his heel dug in on Gladio’s boot.

"The next time I hear you say anything that adds to the 'nobody likes Prompto' tally," Ignis hissed, "you'll have to recalculate your toes."

Noctis pursed his lips in shock. "Oh, right, back before we found out about the baby. Specs was holding that one in a while, huh?" He gently elbowed Prompto in the chest as Prompto silently gaped at Gladio biting back a terse response. "C'mon. Don't let it get you down. Let's swing that mood back the other way." 

Prompto couldn't help but feel a little emotionally vulnerable. He had flirted with Cindy a little - never really intending much, sure, but he could think she was pretty without hurting anyone! - but he knew that even if he was single, it was and had been a lost cause. Even so, he dreaded what she would think of him now. 

The entire ride to Hammerhead the next morning, he fidgeted in the seat, twisting the seatbelt where it rubbed against his belly. He held his breath a little when they pulled into the garage that afternoon, only to let it out when Cindy wasn’t waiting for them. For him. Instead, Noctis jumped out and strode towards the garage. 

“Let me get Cindy. Ignis, you drive too, come with me. Gladio, go see if Takka needs anything out of us.” He pointed at Prompto. “Prompto, you’re on snack duty. Go get a little something for everyone at the market.”

“On it!” Prompto got out of the car and bounded over to the convenience store next to the diner, already crossing his fingers on the hopes they’d have his favorite green smoothie. However, the moment he pushed through the door, he froze up. There was Cindy, standing behind the register and counting the change. She looked up, blinked a few times, then smiled.

“Howdy there! Pronto, ain’t it?”

“It's Prompto. Nice to see you.” He ducked behind the nearest shelf. “Noctis was just going to talk to you about the car.”

“I should’a guessed the Prince’d be here since you were! I’ll take care o’ him in just a minute, I just gotta count out the register.” She continued sorting through the change, as Prompto began to gather up a few car snacks. “How’ve things been? Ain’t seen y’all since we hooked up at Caem!”

“Been alright. We got the mythril for your grandpa, and we’re just waiting on him to finish repairs.” Prompto grabbed a bag of barbecue-flavored chips for Noctis, but he fumbled and they slipped out of his hands. He stifled a complaint and bent over to retrieve them. “Met this crazy lady with a spear, you won’t believe the kind of tech the Empire’s putting out these days! She ended up being pretty okay, though.”

“That so?” Cindy sounded amused, anyway, too absorbed in counting the change to notice as Prompto tried to pick up the chips. He failed, unable to bend over enough with the mound at his waist blocking him. He crouched, bending his knees around the awkward bulk of his bump, as Cindy rambled on. "I wouldn't think y'all'd be getting cuddly with an Imperial!"

"You take the friends you can get, y'know?" Prompto laughed nervously. He got his hands on the chips, then found he couldn't stand. He started grasping for a handhold, but the shelves felt wobbly, so he grasped around for a sturdier alternative. "We're on our own out there, we take the help we can get!"

"I see." Prompto would have jumped, because when did Cindy get that close?! She was leaning over the edge of the shelf, frowning curiously. "You need a hand up there, darlin'?"

Prompto made to laugh it off, but it died before he could fake it. "Um. Yeah. I'm stuck." He poked his middle. "Um, turns out Junior makes up and down kind of hard."

"Junior?" Cindy frowned, then took his hand and helped him stand. "What're you-" She caught sight of his figure and gasped. "Oh my-"

"I'm around 26 weeks," Prompto blurted. "Me and Ignis - it was an accident. We didn't know I could - so, um, what you gotta understand is -"

"Oh my gawsh!" Cindy threw her arms around him. "Lookit you! How cute are you!" She squealed, and Prompto realized she was hugging him with unadulterated delight. "Why didn't y'all tell a gal you were expectin'?!"

"W-waiting 'til it was safe."

"Golly, ain't that the truth, with y'all runnin' 'round like ya do." She rolled her eyes. "And y'all said you were with Ignis? With the glasses? Honey, you hit the jackpot!" She slapped him on the back. "Makes a gal wonder what you were doing makin' eyes at me!"

Prompto cringed. "Well, you _are_ really pretty. But, um, it was mostly 'cause we hadn't told Noctis we were dating yet." 

"Ooh, sweetie." Cindy shook her head. "I should'a just told you, I only date gals who can kick my ass!"

"Gals, huh?" Prompto laughed wearily, almost relieved at knowing he'd never realistically had a chance. "I wish I'd gotten you Aranea's number! She's a badass!”

Cindy clicked his tongue. "“Oh, don’t get me wrong! If I were into boys, all y’all would be on the top of my list! I’d be all over you like yellow on a chocobo!” Cindy laughed and hugged Prompto tighter. “But darlin’, darlin’, this is the cutest thing!” She gave Prompto’s bump a little squeeze. “Look at this precious tummy! Look at the baby! And with that _Ignis_ , of all the fellas!" She wagged an eyebrow at him. "You give us low-down gals hope!” She patted his belly, and Prompto flailed for a second.

“Hey, um, please watch the-”

“Oh, too much?” Cindy gasped and backed off. “Did I hurt the baby? I'm so sorry!" Her next touch was much gentler. "It's just - it's so nice to think folks are still out there, bein' in love and havin' babies, and - Oh, gosh, a baby!” Forgetting herself again almost instantly, Cindy threw her arms around him and rubbed. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We dunno just yet!” Prompto laughed nervously. “We wanna be surprised. I’m picking names for a girl, and Iggy’s picking names for a boy!”

“How exciting!” Cindy squealed again and pressed her cheek to his middle, and just then, Prompto felt the baby kick. Cindy inhaled sharply, then cried out with delight. “She moved! She moved, she moved!”

“We’re still going with ‘they!’” Prompto protested, but Cindy was lost. 

“Oh my gaaawsh, she’s an active little squirmer - sorry, darlin’, I got a preference - I can’t wait to meet her!” Cindy squeezed him tighter, and Prompto smiled wearily and resigned himself to his fate.

“We’re excited to meet them too, hopefully after we’ve kinda gotten Lucis back. They need a safe place to be born.” Prompto smiled wearily, and Cindy hugged him anew.

“If worst comes to worst, Hammerhead’s open to ya.” Cindy patted his hip. "You, Ignis, the Prince, anyone who might be with ya, you'll be welcome here."

That reassurance soothed an ache Prompto hadn't realized was there: better than Cindy's approval, he had a promise of a safe place. "Thanks, Cindy."

"Don't mention it." Cindy squeezed him back into a too-tight hug. "Now you let me hug that baby."

Just then, the doorbell chimed. “Prompto, what’s taking - ah.” Prompto looked up at the sound of Ignis’ voice, but Cindy didn’t bother pretending she wasn’t getting all touchy-feely with Prompto’s belly. Ignis circled the snack rack, chuckling as Cindy stood up without releasing Prompto. “So, I see our little surprise won’t be a surprise to Cindy anymore.”

“Gosh, I’m surprised you even tried!” Cindy hugged Prompto around the middle anew, and he turned pink. “Look’it him, he makes the cutest little mama!”

“He does, though he prefers to be called 'daddy.'” Ignis turned a little pink, smiling with an odd sort of pride, and fixed his glasses. “Did you need any help, Prompto?”

Prompto pointed indicatively at Cindy. “Still haven’t gotten snacks, and Cindy’s not letting me move so much.”

“Nope.” Cindy giggled and patted Prompto’s side. “Baby’s still kickin’!” She actually rubbed her nose to his side. “Howdy there, little darlin’! I can’t wait to meet you!”

“I see.” Ignis turned towards the snack wall, still stifling amusement into a smile as he perused. “It appears you dropped most of your selections. Given the delay, I volunteered myself to assist you and asked for requests.” He began to select packages, and Cindy giggled again, rubbing her cheek to Prompto’s middle. “Noctis wanted barbecue chips, Gladio wanted jerky - ah, Omega-3 Trail Mix!” Ignis held up a bag of pepitas and sunflower seeds with dried cranberries. “Healthy fats are very good for fetal brain development. Splendid - what kind of juice, love?”

“Do they have that bottled green apple-kale smoothie?” Prompto tried to look around the rack, still rooted in place by Cindy’s embrace, as Ignis ventured towards the coolers.

“Your favorite.” Ignis smiled fondly, then turned back to the cooler. “Let me find out.”

“Aw, the baby wants tart stuff, huh?” Cindy giggled again, then kissed Prompto’s belly. “All settled down now. You be good to your mama on the road!” She jumped to her feet and wagged a finger at Prompto. “And you be careful, ya hear? Them daemons have been gettin’ worse and worse, all the hunters’ve said!”

“I’m being as careful as I can, but we got a job to do, and if that job means cutting through a few nasties, well…” Prompto let the sentiment finish itself with a shrug, as Ignis approached with an armful of beverages and snacks. 

“Here, just these for now. However, we would request you take a look at the car.”

"Got y'all covered, I'll head over lickety-split once y'all're checked out." Cindy beamed and winked at them. “Don’t tell Paw-paw, but lemme give you two a little discount. Mostly not for tellin’ Paw-paw I got all touchy on the job.” She punched a few numbers on the cash register. “‘Sides, it ain’t every day you find out one of your buddies is fixin’ to be the baby mama to the most eligible fella in all of Lucis!”

At that, Ignis went a sickly shade of green, and his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. “Baby… mama?”

Prompto snorted and handed over the money. “Way to make a guy feel special. I'm nobody's _mama_.”

Cindy giggled as she tucked their items into a bag. “You may not be a _mama,_ but... Well, darlin’, I don’t see no ring.” She passed their things over the counter and tapped Prompto’s nose again. “You remember what I said, now! You be careful out there, and remember, Hammerhead is here for ya!”

Ignis cleared his throat and took Prompto’s hand, suddenly terse. “We certainly shall. Good afternoon.” He escorted Prompto out, a taut, uncomfortable expression sealing his mouth tight, as Prompto waved to Cindy on the way out.

“We’ll be sure to visit again soon! Get a baby seat in stock and we’ll buy it!” Then he looked to Ignis, who still looked one more knot in his stomach from being ill. “Hey, Iggy, you okay?”

“She called you my -” Ignis bit the sentiment off and sighed. “Nothing, no.”

Prompto watched Ignis closely the rest of the night, puzzling over the contemplative look on his face as he prepared dinner at the caravan. He wondered what was going through his mind, what those turning gears were cranking away at, as Cindy wrenched away at the Regalia.

“Are you mad at Cindy for getting all touchy with me?” He asked, and Ignis shook his head.

"Certainly not. It's... ah, nothing you should worry about." He turned and kissed Prompto on the cheek. “I’m merely grateful Cindy will adore our child as much as you pretended to love her.”

Prompto laughed at that, and though he couldn't quite forget Ignis' silent irritation, he carried that glee through to the morning.

* * *

Cindy had the car in tip-top shape in just a few days, putting a decent dent in their budget. Luckily, Noctis had taken another high-paying job from Vyv, which required Prompto’s specialized skill and a decent drive around Leide to the south of Duscae. However, Prompto was happy for the sightseeing. With every picture he took now, he made sure to narrate a little as he looked at the image for the benefit of someone who couldn’t see it yet. 

“This is the Disc of Cauthess, kiddo.” He clicked through the shots he’d taken from the peak. “It's super big, and so pretty. It's this huge crater, and you can still see the shards of glass where the meteor hit. You used to be able to see the meteor and the shadow of Titan holding it, but, um... well, you were there. Don't miss that guy, honestly. He smacked you around. He's gone, your Uncle Noct fixed that, but the crater there is pretty amazing. I'll have to show you for real one of these days!" He took a few more shots. "What’cha think… Aranea?” He prodded his bump. “Glacia? Fortunata? Vivi? Corona?” He’d been trying a few names, but nothing was clicking. None of them were special enough, really! 

“Chocolina? Cindy?” He laughed a little. “I wonder how Ignis is doing with picking names.” 

(He had not seen Ignis at the caravan with Noctis and Gladio on nights when he fell asleep after dinner, forcing each of them to pore over baby name books he’d bought during their last trip to Lestallum and scribbling out lists of preferred names in his notebook.) 

“I know it’s you and me right now, and your dad and our friends! So, it’s kinda weird to say I want to visit here with you!” He bounded down the rock, checking his angle as the golden hour ended, reveling in the drama of another sunset as he tried to capture just the right shot. “But you’re not actually here yet, and hopefully you won’t be for a while.” He took another stance, then took another picture. “Still, I want to show you all of this someday. I think I’ll get all of these photos printed when I’ve got a chance, so I have a great big album to show you! I want you to see what the world looks like now, today, before you get here. I don’t know how the world is going to change, but I want you to see it as it is, and someday I’ll show you what it’s like after.” He took another position on the rock and took another snap. “Someday, right, Liliana? Or Lacie? Or… Lu…”

He stopped there, watching the sun sink below the shadow of the Titan’s mountain, gleaming distantly on the horizon.

“No.” He stopped in place at the very thought, teetering a step on the edge of the rock. “Is it even…? Would I be _allowed_? But calling you Lu...” 

He lingered on the notion for a very long moment, unable to even complete the thought, not daring to even dream it.

“Hey. When I see… _her_ in Altissia? Maybe I could ask her.” He resolved on that thought. “I’ll ask her.”

Even getting only a fraction of the way into the name, it had felt as right as right could be. 

“If you’re a girl, it should start with Lu.” Prompto laughed to himself and turned the camera on himself. “Smile, sweetie!” He pasted on a big grin and took a snapshot. 

When he hopped down from the rock, Ignis and Gladio were waiting for him, as Noctis put out the camp chairs. He settled in for another peaceful night with the others, not even daring to whisper the name he hoped to someday say every day of his life.

That night, however, when he reviewed his photographs, he noticed a familiar profile in his selfie against the sunset: "Gentiana?" He frowned as he placed the serene face of the Messenger who'd greeted Noctis before. Lunafreya's companion, looming over his shoulder. Was it a sign? Her expression was complacent and calm, and she seemed to be looking in his direction. Prompto had thought he'd caught glimpses of her in his viewfinder before, splashes of a blue dress between spiracorns' legs or a lock of long, jet black hair amidst a flurry of daggerquill feathers. This was unmistakable.

Had Gentiana read his mind?

He held onto that photograph too, resolving to ask Noctis what it might have meant. Maybe when he wasn't so sleepy. 

(He fell asleep far too early that night to hear Ignis’ declaration of “THAT’S IT!”)

* * *

Morning came, and Prompto woke to the baby twisting against his ribcage. The sun was warm through the tent on his skin, comfortably so. Ignis and Gladio were gone from the tent already, and Noct was curled up near him, one hand splayed across his chest, drooling onto the fluffy air mattress. It was a familiar way to wake up by now, but as Prompto carefully sat up, he couldn’t find himself especially minding.

For a second, he again wondered what it would be like to have had his "accident" in Insomnia, to wake up heavy and tired in Ignis' apartment and shuffle into the kitchen for a kiss and hug and a hearty breakfast, then to relax all day, as Ignis would refuse to let him lift a single finger as their baby grew big and strong inside of him.

He'd probably get bored and lonely fast. He missed Insomnia, he missed home, but he wouldn’t trade his companions for the world.

With that, he carefully got himself to his feet, wondering when the bump on his middle rose this high. He carefully pushed his way out of the tent and breathed deep the scent of cooking fruit and pastry. Ignis was flipping pancakes on the camp stove. Gladio was reading, languidly flipping a page in the baby book. Prompto noticed he was looking over the page for "Week 28," eyebrows raised. Prompto strolled over to Ignis and hugged him around the waist.

"Mornin' Iggy."

"Good morning, my love." Ignis turned and kissed him on the cheek, then pushed one pan off the heat and wrapped an arm around him. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good. Tummy's itchy." Prompto absently scratched his middle. “I’ll make sure to put some lotion on after breakfast, though. Do I have a minute to stretch?”

“You do, go on.” Ignis gave him a gentle pat on the hip, then returned his attention to breakfast. Prompto went to the edge of the haven, faced the sun, and lifted his arms to the sky in Sun Salute pose.

Another shadow was cast behind his, and Prompto noticed Gladio beside him, doing the same stretch. He winked at Prompto. “How about you and me do a short jog once you’re stretched out?” 

“Just a short one. I’m actually pretty hungry.” Prompto grinned, then shifted into a low squat, stretching his hips. Gladio followed his lead, as Prompto slid one leg back into a bow pose. Out of the corner of his eyes, Prompto saw another shadow beside him, as Noctis took the same pose, still yawning, and leaned his back into it.

“This feels nice,” he mumbled, and followed along as Prompto switched legs. “No wonder you’ve been doing this.”

“It’s like your physical therapy used to be,” Gladio snorted. “And Noct, you can put your leg back further. Prompto, you shouldn’t push yourself too hard.”

“Actually, I’m pretty flexible, I’m just only supposed to step instead of jumping between poses. ” Prompto grinned and turned at the waist into Warrior pose. Gladio and Noctis matched him. “It’s a really good stretch, though! I need to get the aches out of my back.” He tilted backwards at the waist and reached skyward, and grimaced as the skin on his front stretched. “Also, a buttload of lotion.”

“We’ll stop in Lestallum and get you some more.” Noctis grunted a little as he pinwheeled his arm up and tried to twist further, only to find Ignis touching his shoulder and adjusting him. 

“Keep your spine aligned.” Ignis stood at Noctis’ side and easily took Warrior pose without preamble, his apron swishing in the wind. “It’s all about balance. If you overcompensate from the flex you’re trying to hold, then you won’t reap the proper benefits.”

“Thanks, Specs.” Noctis rolled his eyes a little, but smiled, and Prompto twisted down into Warrior II, shifting his shoulders forward and pushing his foot back again. “Feel good, Prompto?”

“Yeah.” Prompto grinned as he and the other three held their position a little longer, then switched sides. All four of them finished his routine together, and Prompto felt relieved for much more than just stretches.

Noctis even jogged with Gladio and Prompto, along the ridge and back. The four of them ate breakfast together, and just as they were finishing, Noctis let out a sigh.

“I got a phone call this morning.” He looked over to Ignis, past Prompto and Gladio. “Cid says the boat’s ready. We can depart for Altissia as soon as we’re ready to go.”

“Oh.” Prompto frowned, caught up short, and looked to his feet (as best as he could). “So, I guess we’ll be making a beeline for Caem after we clean up here?”

“He said ‘when we’re ready.’” Noctis shrugged, then glanced to Ignis and Gladio. “I say we make one more run on Lestallum, do one last good restock, and make ready as best as we possibly can. Weapons, equipment, curatives, spare clothes and medicine, _anything_ we might need.” He chuckled a little. “Who knows if our money’s any good over there, right?”

“I’d rather not find out the hard way,” Gladio snorted.

“I do believe Altissia and Accordo use Gil; most Imperial territories do.” Ignis wagged a finger at Noctis as he took his empty bowl. “Still a wise move, however.”

“Yeah.” Prompto bit his lip. “And… can I check in with Dr. Naline one more time?”

“I was gonna suggest it.” Noctis patted his shoulder. “We dunno when you’re gonna get back here to see her again.”

“Also,” Gladio muttered, “you’re in the third trimester. It’s important you start getting checked out every other week.”

“Perhaps ask if Dr. Naline has contact information, if she can forward your files to a doctor in Altissia or recommend a partner clinic.” Ignis put the bowls in the washing bin. “We’ll do what we can to be ready for whatever may come.” 

“Only so much we can do, I guess!” Prompto managed to laugh, as the baby tumbled up against his ribs. 

It hit him for real then: he was going to be a father in twelve weeks. His baby would likely be born far, far away from Lucis, and nowhere near home. He didn’t know what life would be like then, he had no grounds to predict the future. He could only think of what might have been or what might be, and what he had before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYSSSS.
> 
> One of my Discord buddies painted some fanart for chapter 9! Check it out!
> 
>  
> 
> For more of their work, check their links here!  
>  Tumblr: https://lavender-skulls.tumblr.com/post/184889385995/edit-half-body-and-up-was-meant-to-be-half-body  
>  Instagrms: https://www.instagram.com/lavenderskullss/  
>  https://www.instagram.com/toasty.chickens/


	18. All Set To Set Sail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto and the others prepare to leave for Altissia, and say their farewells to their friends in Lucis.

**18\. All Set To Set Sail**

Prompto’s last visit to Doctor Naline was nothing but good news for Prompto: "Looks like you're back on track." She showed Prompto the charts, how his test results all landed him close to the average healthy pregnancy. "Do your best to keep doing what you're doing."

"Unfortunately, this may be our last visit with you." Ignis broke the one bit of bad news from his usual chair. "We're going to Accordo. I have family in Tenebrae, and if we're to clear the Imperial checks, we have to get to Altissia, and sooner rather than later."

"Travel like that is risky at this stage." Doctor Naline frowned. "I know you probably want to get to your family, but is there any way you can postpone until after the baby is born?"

"Not really, no." Prompto bit his lip and looked dubiously to Ignis. "We, um, need help. With… Everything."

Doctor Naline still looked stern, but her brow knit up with worry. "I can't stop you, but I do strongly discourage it. Please exercise full caution, and try to avoid stress. Too much stress could cause early labor, and high cortisone levels can restrict fetal growth."

"We'll do our best to tend to him on the road, as we have been." Ignis offered Prompto his clothes back. "However, it's unavoidable. I would like to ask if you have a partner clinic in Altissia, so we can ask you to forward Prompto's file."

"Sorry, Mr. Argentum." Doctor Naline shook her head but smiled sympathetically. "However, I can give you our fax number. Once you get settled in Altissia and get him to a doctor - and you do need to keep seeing a doctor, every other week now! - I'll send them everything we have."

"Thank you." Prompto clasped his hands tight. "You've been so great."

She smiled, took his hands in hers, and pressed them all together. "I’m just doing my job! If you do come back to Lucis, promise you'll visit with your whole happy little family."

Prompto agreed with a nod, and squeezed her hands back. “I hope to come back soon.”

The rest of Prompto's family, Gladio and Noctis (in one of Gladio's oversized hoodies to hide his face), were waiting in the lobby. As soon as Prompto stepped out, Noctis was up and coming for him.

"Can I see?" He smiled at Prompto from under the hood, and Prompto took out the envelope Doctor Naline had given him with a flourish.

“New baby pictures!” He pulled the photos out to show Noctis and Gladio the baby, who was looking more and more like a baby with every sonogram, curled up inside him in black and white relief. 

Noctis reverently traced the silhouette, his expression softening. "They're so big compared to that first picture." 

"Looking good, kid." Gladio patted him on the back. Prompto didn't even flinch this time. "Ready to take them to Altissia with us?"

The Regalia was in tip-top shape, they'd packed up loads of spare equipment and curatives, and Prompto had a fresh bottle of vitamins and a small stock of his favorite bottled smoothie in the Armiger. Noctis had somehow rounded up ten Royal Arms, and Prompto had seen him waving farewell to Umbra outside the Leville that morning. It hardly seemed real, but they were actually about to go to Altissia to meet Lunafreya.

A few months behind schedule and on a very different agenda, for sure, but they were finally doing what they'd left Insomnia to do. 

"No stops between here and Caem unless it's an emergency," Gladio declared as he got in the front seat. Noctis sat at the wheel, and Prompto got in the back with Ignis. 

"I'll let you know if it's an emergency," Prompto chuckled as he settled and put his seat belt on. "No promises it won’t just be six pee breaks, though."

"We’ll not push too hard. I doubt we'll be departing today, but likely first thing in the morning. We don't want to be on the ocean at night in such a small craft." Ignis patted Prompto's hand. "Larger vessels likely have lights that can ward daemons off, but I’m not certain our vessel is equipped."

"Are there daemons on the ocean?" Noctis mused vacantly, then put the car in drive. "Only one way to find out, I guess."

It was close to sunset when they reached Caem, and they were greeted warmly by Iris, Monica, Dustin, and even Cid. Monica made stew for everyone, and Iris had made puddings with little Moogle faces. They set up the tent at the base of the hill, but Iris and Talcott volunteered to stay in the tent with Noctis to let Prompto have a bed, and Ignis was, of course, welcome to stay with him in the cabin. The two of them slept their last night in Lucis wrapped around each other in a double bed as far from Insomnia as they'd ever been, knowing that the next day, they would go even further from home than ever before. 

Ignis got up at dawn to make egg sandwiches for breakfast for all of the Crownsguard refugees in Caem, and when Noctis and Gladio strolled up from the campsite, Noctis was on his phone. 

“Cor’ll be here in about half an hour to see us off,” he informed the others, and Prompto bit his lip for a second.

“Yeah? Wow, been a while since we last saw him face to face, huh?” He let out a nervous little laugh. “It’ll be nice to have him here.” 

“It will.” Noctis nodded, expression unusually serious for a moment. He took his phone out and tapped out a quick text, then took a plate of breakfast from Ignis, shoved the tomato slices onto Prompto’s plate, and wandered off to eat his sandwich while ignoring Ignis’ rebuke.

Prompto found himself looking out the cabin window at the water the whole time, with the baby kicking up towards the rising sun. He thought if he focused enough, he could just catch Altissia across the sea, but it may have just been the sun gleaming on the water. “I wonder what it’ll be like.”

“Probably no cakewalk.” Gladio landed on the bench beside Prompto. “Supposed to be the whole Empire's there, looking for Lady Lunafreya.” Prompto winced, but Gladio shrugged and tore a chunk off of his fried ham. “Still, we’ve dealt with worse. Remember the time we had three MT ships buzz us at once?”

“Oh, oh man.” Prompto laughed. “With the mechs and all!”

“Wrecked ‘em.” Gladio grinned back, all teeth and playful ferocity. “And they caught us off-guard, too. This time, we know for sure they’re gonna be there. We’ve been surprised enough that a planned assault won’t be much more than a warm-up for us, and you’re fighting with a handicap!”

There was a gruff, “What handicap?” from the door, and both Gladio and Prompto whipped their heads around to see Cor Leonis standing in the aperture. As Prompto froze up and Gladio’s shoulders sank, Noctis put his empty plate aside, cool and collected.

“Marshal.” He stood at attention in front of him. “Glad you made it.”

“As am I.” Cor saluted, then crossed his arms. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

The cheerful conversation that had been going on quieted quickly as Cor cast his gaze around the room. His eyes landed on Prompto, then went wide. Prompto sucked his cheeks in, but Cor turned back to Noctis.

“I suppose this is what you meant.” Prompto would have asked what Cor meant, but didn’t dare, not when Cor was still very likely deciding whether to be angry or upset. He paused, mouth working, eyes twitching. Somehow, he maintained his cool, despite looking like he was straining to hold back a meltdown. “I’d like to talk to the four of you alone.”

Cor escorted them up to the lighthouse and marched them to the dry dock. The king’s yacht was in ship-shape, looking well-loved but ready to venture forth. Prompto could hardly even appreciate it as Cor lined the four of them up in front of the dry dock. Cid hustled in about thirty seconds later.

“Damn it, boy, don’t you go off on ‘em here, you're gonna bust the boat up!”

“Your memory must be going. I’m not a child who throws tantrums.” Cor pursed his lips. “I’m an adult, and I thought I was taking responsibility for these four.” He looked between all four of them, and Prompto was sure his gaze lingered on his middle for longer than all the rest. “How long?”

Prompto bit his lip, but Cor leaned in, pressing an answer out of him: “Twenty-eight weeks, sir.”

“So it happened about two weeks after I last saw you face to face. I thought you were looking off." Cor rubbed his chin. "When did you run out of hormones?”

Prompto had to swallow breakfast again, as he realized Cor had likely known about his transition all along. “I… I-I, um… didn’t. I tried to… to cut the dose to make it last…”

“I see.” Cor exhaled through his nose. “I guess I don’t have to tell you that was a bad idea.”

“No, sir.”

Then, to Prompto’s surprise, Cor put a hand on his shoulder. “Still, it looks like you’ve taken responsibility. Congratulations. You’re a good man, and you’ll be a good father. Just be careful on the road, alright? You’re the gunner. You’re supposed to stay at the back, and now you have two reasons to do it.” 

Prompto felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. Had Cor just  _ approved _ ?

“Now then.” Cor turned directly to Gladiolus. “Is this why we had to have a ‘responsibilities and priorities’ talk last time you and I saw each other?”

Ignis and Noctis both swung their faces towards Gladio. “Gladio, you met with the Marshal while you were away?” Ignis asked.

Noctis scowled. “Could’ve mentioned.”

“Uh.” Gladio inhaled sharply, coming up short, then gathered himself with an exhale. “In order, no, sir; yeah; and I’ll tell you all about it on the boat if you care that much.”

“No, sir, you said?” Cor then turned to Ignis. “Then, based on my last observations of your relationships, I suppose Prompto didn’t discuss the details of his adjusted hormone therapy with you and you failed to use adequate protection.”

Ignis’ cheeks went faintly pink, as Noctis’ jaw dropped. “Wait, you knew those two were an item?”

“They were disgustingly obvious to me, your Highness. I found out Prompto was interested in Ignis during his secondary background check when he applied to the Crownsguard.” Cor paused. “He had doodled ‘Prompto Scientia-Argentum’ and ‘Prompto Argentum-Scientia’ in the margins of his application pages." Gladio cut off a laugh with a fist pressed against his mouth, as Prompto turned a previously undiscovered shade of red. "Also, they danced for about an hour at Noctis’ eighteenth birthday ball.” Cor's expression was remarkably straight. “I saw King Regis collect approximately one hundred crowns off of Clarus Amicitia, who had apparently banked on Ignis being the one to make the first move. I believe Regis put his money on Prompto.” As Noctis groaned and Gladio put his face in his palm, Cor spoke a little softer: “You had people who wanted to see you two happy together.”

Prompto was tomato red and jealous of Ignis’ faint flush by comparison. 

“So, to ask directly.” Cor straightened up, speaking with his usual authority, “Ignis, is the unborn child yours?”

“They are, Marshal.” Ignis stood stark straight. “And may I say-”

“No, you may not.” Cor studied the four of them a moment longer, then turned to Noctis. “Do you have any opinions on the situation, Highness? Other than, 'be nice to Prompto, nobody else has.'”

Prompto's jaw clenched. "Noct…"

"It's Prompto's decision. I support him." Noctis tried to keep a straight face, but it split into a languid smirk. “Also, I’m the godfather. As soon as I get access to the Crown funds, I’m building them a playroom in the Citadel.”

To Prompto’s surprise, Cor cracked a smile. “Good answer.” He stood before them, hands on his hips. “I see that you are all together in this, and I’m proud of you for facing it head on. It seems you faced your interpersonal conflict with the same unity with which you've faced the Empire." He looked between the four of them. You four have stood up against everything that’s been in your way so far, and I trust you all going forward.” He faced Noctis. “There’s something I need to get off my chest.”

Noctis evenly met his gaze. “What’s that?”

Cor lowered his face, nearly imperceptibly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for your father. I swore an oath to protect the king, but I wasn’t strong enough to uphold it.” Cor was faintly shaking, until Cid tromped down the stairs and put a hand on his back.

“Ain’t nothin’ nobody could’ve done to stop what happened.” 

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed, nodding subtly. “I… I know that now. My dad wanted it this way, wanted the people he cared about most far away so they wouldn’t go down with him.”

“Right. It was a... kingly thing to do.” Cid sucked on his bottom lip for a moment, then turned to the others. “But what you gotta realize is what you mean to those boys at your side. You ain't _just_ a king to them.” He looked between Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto, then faced Noct, eyes of steel and regret twisting the corners of his mouth. “Look at all they’ve gone through for you.”

“I know. I do.” Noctis put his hand to his chest. 

“Even if they can’t help you,” Cid went on, “you can’t hide your problems from them. It hurts like hell.” He bit his lip, as Cor hung his head lower. “Remember - those ain’t your bodyguards. They’re your brothers. Trust in ‘em. Always.”

Gladio patted Noctis’ back. Prompto took his hand. Ignis put his palm on his shoulder. Noctis smiled wryly. “I will.”

Cid helped load the Regalia onto the boat, as Noctis' allies gathered on the dock to see them off. Iris hugged Gladio, and he promised to call if they had reception. Ignis shook Monica and Dustin's hands and thanked them for their assistance. Noctis did the same, promising he'd be back as soon as he could, "and I'll bring Lucis back with me."

Prompto, for his part, got a big hug from Cindy. "Y'all hurry back now, y'hear?" She tapped Prompto's nose, and Ignis' back arched. "And you be careful out there especially!" 

"I will be, promise." He hugged her back, making a note of Ignis' pinched expression for later discussion and enjoying Cindy's embrace for however long it lasted. "We've all got each other."

"We'll all be back," Noctis declared, drawing all eyes to him. "The real work starts when the Empire is gone and Lucis is ours again."

"The task ahead of us is great, but we will face it head on." Ignis took Prompto's hand. "Thank you all for your support."

"We won't be gone long enough for you to miss us," Gladio laughed, and Iris stuck her tongue out at him. 

"Liar!"

"Fine, miss us, but trust us." He pinched Iris' cheek. "We got this."

Prompto realized he was struggling to breathe and his face was wet, and Ignis was suddenly in front of him with a kerchief. "Dry your eyes, darling. We're all here for you."

Prompto dabbed at his face, but the tears kept coming. "I… I'm okay… just…"

"Prompto." Cor stepped forward and spoke quietly, but firmly: "You don't have to go. Nobody will fault you for staying behind."

"No, I know." Prompto sniffled. "Sorry. I'm just a little emotional. I'm gonna miss everyone, but I promise I'll take good care of Noct!"

Cor smiled with obvious reluctance. "You're a good man." He faced Noctis. "Remember what Cid told you." He stepped back, crossing his arms, and Ignis linked arms with Prompto to pull him in and kiss his cheek.

“Last chance, darling. I’d hate to leave you behind, but I’ll understand if you’d prefer safety.”

“I prefer you, Iggy. I want to stay with you.” Prompto looked around at everyone gathered there, then took his camera out. “I’ll miss everyone here, though. Can I get a picture to take with us?”

Everyone gathered up as Prompto set up his camera on the tripod and set the timer, and he hurried into frame. The camera flashed, capturing all of them together there, smiling.

Prompto held the joy in that photo as if all of it was his, for him, in hopes that such happiness wouldn't be as fleeting next time.

Cid, Gladio, Noctis, Ignis, and Prompto boarded, and Cor opened the dry dock doors and released the sluice gate so the boat could slide down into the water. With a splash and a crash, followed by a roar from the motor, they were out on the open sea. Prompto inhaled deeply as the salty-sweet air filled his lungs, and for the first time, he saw the full spread of an ocean outside of movies and photographs. The Cygillian Sea, vast, wild, and impossible to comprehend. 

"Amazing!" He grabbed Ignis' hand, grinning as they soared out into the water. "I've always wanted to go sailing like this."

"Not many opportunities back in Insomnia, huh?" Gladio chuckled as he settled on one of the benches on the deck. 

"Of course not! We hardly had ponds back home!" Prompto laughed and climbed up onto the rail. Ignis grabbed the back of his vest, as he spread his arms and faced the ocean. "Out here, it’s just us and the horizon! It’s amazing - it’s life-changing!"

"You'd know a thing or two about life-changing," Noctis teased, already sprawled out with his hands pillowed under his head. "I guess all of us would, by now."

"Yeah, guess so." Prompto laughed to himself, but Noctis' words rang true. 

Prompto was becoming familiar with the sensation that he was part of something much bigger than him, and yet, for once, he faced it with awe instead of fear. 

"We’ve quite a ways to go until we reach Altissia," Ignis said softly, as his hand on Prompto's vest flattened to rub his lower back, "so keep gushing to your heart’s content. Just, step down for me, if you would."

"Yeah," Prompto chuckled as he stepped off the railing. "It's just amazing. When we step off the boat, we’ll be in a foreign country."

"The anticipation alone is a foreign sensation." Ignis smiled slyly, as Noctis groaned under his breath. 

"And to think this is where we were headed to begin with." Gladio turned to face the shore as it vanished. "Things got complicated, to say the least."

"We've been through a lot." Noctis closed his eyes. Ignis hummed.

"And there's still more to come."

"You can say that again." Prompto touched his middle as the baby roused and tumbled around. 

They were about to be an ocean away from anything familiar, dropped into the middle of the war, facing the Empire on their own turf, and Prompto knew he was in the middle of his own changing life. For now, he was in the middle of the ocean, headed towards their future, and couldn't be happier for it.

Whatever came to be in Altissia, there would be resolution, and soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I make no promises on how long this story will be nor my update schedule, but comments are always encouraging. Thank you for reading!


End file.
